Wonder Boy LeoN1981
by LeoN1981
Summary: While exploring the home of his recently deceased great-uncle, Bobby Trevor discovers a bracer that gives him fantastic powers.  Being a superhero was never a part of his plans, but with pressure all around can he really say no when people need his help?
1. New

**Wonder Boy** by Leo Nielson

Based on DC Comics characters and the DC Animated TV series "Justice League" and "Justice League: Unlimited". Characters are used without the permission of DC Comics, or any of its affiliates, but also without the intent to make a profit, so please don't sue me.

**Part I – **Reluctant

**Chapter One: **New

The powder-blue sedan rolled down the rural byway, towing a trailer that carried the sum total of a lifetime. Inside the car was what appeared to be a complete family – behind the wheel the father drove, in the passenger seat the mother dozed, and in the back a son took pictures of the countryside. They were a mixed family, though, with the father stepping in to fill the role vacated by tragic events.

Of course, it wasn't perfect; like any combined family there was friction.

Nathan Barnes was a good man, who had fallen in love with Samantha a decade and a half earlier, but she had been in love too, with Joshua Trevor. A year older, tall and athletic, with perfect hair and a dazzling smile, Captain of the Lacrosse Team, Student Body President, and member of the Honor Roll, Joshua had been perfection personified. Nate was none of that, but for three months, at the end of his and Samantha's Junior year he'd had hope, when she and her steady boyfriend had seemed on the outs. It had shocked the whole school to learn that Samantha was pregnant with Joshua's baby. The pair had married over the summer, before Robert had been born; avoiding the worst of the scandal, and Samantha had completed high school as Mrs. Trevor.

Broken hearted, Nathan had moved on, but he'd never forgotten his first love.

Last year he'd seen Samantha in a bookstore and mustered up the courage to talk to her. Nate had been surprised to learn that Joshua had died in the line of duty as a Detective in the Gotham City Police Department. It had seemed like a mixed blessing – on one hand, Joshua had been a good man, but on the other hand Nate couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of Samantha being single again. He'd been willing to take it slow, but Samantha had been ready to start a new relationship.

Robert, on the other hand, missed his father, and resented Nathan for trying to take Joshua's place.

The boy, who had just celebrated his 16th birthday, had done a good job of taking care of his mom in the years since his father's death. Samantha had been a wreck for nearly a year after losing her husband: she'd been unable to continue her job as a school teacher, and the life insurance policy was barely paying the bills, so Robert had gotten a job as a photographer to cover the rest. In addition to taking photos for the Gotham Gazette he'd snapped shots all over town of gargoyles and building facades, the kinds of things that Gothamites didn't look at any more. Robert was good, the editor of the Gazette had worked with the boy to put together a coffee table book, which was why Samantha had been in the bookstore that day Nathan had seen her.

"Robert," Nate said when he heard the seatbelt in the back click, "Robert, what are you doing?"

Camera in hand, Robert was climbing out the sunroof of the car.

Mindful of his wife sleeping in the passenger seat the man hissed, "Robert, get back in this car right now!"

As was normal for their relationship, Robert ignored him. Peering through the sunroof Nate saw an eagle wheeling overhead and figured that was the source of his stepson's fascination. Hearing the camera click, Nate threatened, "Robert, you sit down right now or I swear I'm going to . . ."

"What's going on?" Samantha asked as she came out of her nap. She looked up to see her son and sighed, "Robert, please sit down."

He listened to his mother, climbing back into his seat. "I got some good shots, mom; do you want to see them?"

"Buckle your seatbelt," she told him, taking the camera. "These are great, honey, but don't you ever climb out the sunroof again."

"Yes, Mother," Robert responded with mock sarcasm. Instead he pointed the camera out his window to take pictures of the countryside again.

Now that she was awake, Samantha started picking out landmarks. "Oh, Robert, take a picture of that barn – that's where I had my first kiss."

"Ugh, mom, I'm not taking pictures of your old make-out places," he told her, sitting back.

"Okay, but take a picture of the city sign; it should be right up ahead," she allowed. "Nathan, slow down, the sign is right there."

Robert half leaned out the window to get the shot, and as he climbed back in they passed a housing development – new homes on the outskirts of town. The town itself had seen a recent renovation – the buildings on Main Street were in the process of being re-bricked, and city hall's marble façade was being cleaned. Across the street the park was being spruced up too: the sports areas had been resurfaced, and the playground equipment was in the process of being replaced.

"Robert, we need to talk to the zoning officer," Samantha told her son. "Can you keep yourself entertained for an hour, or so?"

"Sure thing, mom," he responded, leaning forward to give his mom a kiss on the cheek as Nathan pulled up to the scaffold-concealed court building.

Bobby climbed out of the car with his camera in hand and headed for the tennis court he could see in the park. He heard Nathan call out, "Stay out of trouble, Robert."

Ignoring the man, Bobby moved over to the tennis court where two girls were playing a very vigorous game. He was surprised to recognize one of them as Bette Kane, a fellow Gothamite, and a hero of the last Olympics when she'd brought the gold medal in Tennis to the US. She was a beautiful blonde woman in her early twenties, with an athletic build accentuated by a sports-bra and tennis skirt. In addition to tennis she was supposed to have trained in gymnastics and martial arts by her aunt.

He didn't recognize the other girl, who was about his age, with brown hair and pretty in that unassuming, girl-next-door way. The girl was holding her own against the Olympian, showing excellent form and speed, but it was obvious that they were not on the same level. Despite that, the girl was giving it a good go as she chased the ball down and batted it back over the net.

Bringing his camera up, Bobby took a few shots of the pair until Bette volleyed the ball right at him. The angle and speed were just right for the tennis ball to lodge in the chain-link fence. He took a picture of that, too, before addressing the pair.

"Nice shot," he called out, enthusing, "That was a really good game you played during the Olympics."

"What, you were flipping through channels and got stuck on the short skirts?" the blonde scathed.

"No, actually I was hosting the Tennis Club from Gotham North high school," he answered evenly, "My stepdad was a manager at the Gotham Hilton, and reserved the theater for us, so we got to watch the games on a screen 5 stories tall. Hey, is there any chance I could get one of those signed?" He indicated the tennis ball, going on, "My friends will flip when they find out that I actually met you!"

"If you're from Gotham City what are you doing in West Brook, New York?" the brunette wondered as she came over.

"My mom, stepdad and I just moved here," Bobby answered. He didn't want it to color the brunette's impression of him, but he admitted, "My dad died a couple of years ago, and Gotham has too many memories."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the brunette sighed, sounding genuinely empathetic, making him wonder who she had lost. "I'm Mary Bromfield, the Captain of the Tennis Club. Welcome to West Brook."

"Thank you, Mary Bromfield, Captain of the Tennis Club. I'm Robert Steven Trevor, but my friends call me Bobby," he replied, smiling warmly in return. "You must be pretty important if the legendary Bette Kane is your coach."

"Actually, I'm here as a favor to my alma mater," Bette explained, "trying to recruit Mary to the Elias School for Girls."

"But that's not going to happen," Mary replied obstinately, complete with a roll of her eyes. "Do you have any idea the trouble I went to convincing my parents to let me attend a public school? Besides, if I go who will recruit Bobby here to the school team?"

With a sigh, Bette commented, "Well, at least this is a reason for not coming the Enrolment Board will understand," implying something that Bobby didn't quite catch.

Mary blushed and muttered, "Well, I wouldn't go that far."

It was Bette's turn to roll her eyes as she offered, "Why don't you two play a set? I'm going back to the hotel to shower."

"Don't go," the young woman pouted.

"I've got to get back to Bludhaven – classes start in a couple of days," the woman replied.

"You're studying Sports Medicine, right?" Bobby asked

With a smile the woman cheered, "Wow, you really are a fan!"

Pulling the ball out of the fence she produced a pen from her pocket and signed the yellow felt with a flourish before tossing the ball over the fence.

Bobby took a couple steps back and caught it, exclaiming, "Thanks, Bette; my friends are going to be so jealous."

"Maybe you'll be the next one to go to the Olympics – if so, I expect to get a signed ball of my own," the gold-medalist said with a wave as she walked off the court.

"Bye, Bette," Mary said, waving. "So, Bobby, how about that match?"

"Sounds good," he said, coming around the fence and grabbing Mary's extra racket.

Bobby considered himself pretty good, as he would have gone to the State Finals in his Freshman year if not for his dad's death. He hadn't been able to play his Sophomore year, as he'd been too busy trying to make ends meet, but he'd stayed in shape by picking up a little parkour so that he could reach the best camera angles. Mary, however, was not coming off a two-year hiatus, and so was a step above him in skill. He was also not dressed for tennis, as he was wearing jeans instead of shorts, and the wrong kind of shoes, forcing him to pull out all his best moves.

He'd always had a mind for angles, and knew almost the instant the ball touched Mary's racket where it was going. The young woman was quite sly with her placement, forcing Bobby to sprint back and forth across the court, but he refused to give up. He tried to switch the racket to his left hand, in order to catch Mary off guard, but she'd practiced against lefties, and adjusted quickly. The final score was 15-12 in Mary's favor when Bobby finally admitted defeat.

"You're good," Mary enthused, even though she'd won. Her eyes danced as she went on, "We'll go to State for sure with you on the team."

Her good mood evaporated when another voice interjected itself into the conversation. "Hey, Mary," a teenage boy called out.

The new guy was tall, about 6'2", definitely a Senior-classman and in shape. Classically handsome, with a square jaw and black hair worn a little long, gelled into a casual elegance, the older teen was wearing a letterman jacket even though it was 80 degrees out, the name 'Vincent' in cursive on the right breast. Pins on the left identified him as the varsity captain of the Football and Basketball teams, and the junior-varsity captain of the Baseball and Wrestling teams. Back in Gotham Vincent would have been one of the most popular guys in school, but the look that Mary was throwing the older boy made it obvious that she didn't like him.

"Is this kid bothering you?" Vincent asked, actually cracking his knuckles as if he were spoiling for a fight.

"Not as much as you are, Carter," Mary responded, her tone backing up the look of dislike on her face.

Stepping forward the younger teen boy offered his hand. "My name is Robert Steven Trevor, but my friends call me Bobby."

"Yea, whatever," Vincent responded as he ignored the offered hand and stepped past Bobby to stand over Mary, af he would appreciate his looks more up close. "The guys and I are going to grab a burger. Let's ditch this loser and go hang out."

"Why, so my IQ can drop 20 points," she countered scathingly. "I told you last year that I'd consider going out with you when the dead walked the earth.

"Come on; you're really going to choose shorty over me?" Vincent demanded.

That hurt – Bobby's dad had been 6 feet tall, but the son was hoping that he'd make 5'10" in his next growth spurt. A little defensive the young man shot back, "Look, dude, take a hint: if you want to date a classy girl like Mary you have to stop acting like an obnoxious jerk."

Mary smiled, squaring her shoulders and arching her neck, as if waiting to see if Vincent could manage to transform himself into a decent person.

Instead, the older teen turned in Bobby, and threatened, "Listen, you little poo-flinger, I'm the Captain of the Football Team and the son of the Mayor, so unless you want to spend the night in the hospital I suggest shutting your mouth."

"Yea, I don't think so," Bobby responded. "First off, I'm not stupid enough to get into a fist fight with you. Second, even if you did beat me up you wouldn't impress Mary – in fact, you'd probably alienate her even more. Third, I'd use my personal relationship with the Chief of Police to bring you up on charges." Leaning to the side Bobby added, "Hey, Eli, nice to see you again."

"That's Chief Kingston while I'm wearing this uniform, Bobby," responded a tall man wearing the blue and tan uniform of a West Brook Police Officer. A device on his shoulders similar to the military designation for colonel identified him as the Chief of Police. "Mr. Carter, perhaps you can find somewhere else to be?"

Elisha Kingston was 6'7", dark skinned, and even though he was pushing 50 the man couldn't hide that he was ripped under a shirt and tie. Five inches taller than Vincent, Eli carried his authority with a dignity that even the older teen couldn't argue with.

"Yea, right," Vincent said, stepping away and slinking off with one more murderous glare over his shoulder, as if trying to burn Bobby's face into his mind.

"Miss Bromfield," the Chief nodded to the young woman, "I see you've met my godson. Bobby, how have you been?"

"Not bad, Chief," Bobby replied, thrilled to see the man after five years. "So, any chance you've got a Junior Deputy program?"

"Yes, actually, but it's only reserved for problem kids," the man explained. "You aren't going to be a problem kid, are you, Bobby?"

"No, sir."

"I wanted to make Vincent the first participant, but Mayor Carter nixed that," Eli went on. He imitated an irate business man, saying, "My son doesn't need to be riding around in police cars like some small town hick. He's going to Harvard or Yale, whichever one offers him the best scholarship."

Bobby laughed, and remarked, "If he keeps going like that he'll be spending plenty of time in the back of police cruisers."

They both laughed, and Mary inquired, "So, where do you two know each other from?"

"Chief Kingston was my dad's partner back in Gotham – he taught my dad the ropes as a Detective," Bobby explained.

"He was a good man," the chief grieved, putting a hand on Bobby shoulders. "I'm sorry that I couldn't make the funeral, but the news sent Monet into labor. So, I hear that your mom and stepdad are taking over the Gottfried place?"

With a shrug, Bobby told him, "That's the plan – my mom's great-uncle, Eugene Gottfried, left my mom a house here in West Brook."

"Really?" Mary asked, suddenly excited. "That means we're going to be neighbors. But I thought the family moving in was called 'Barnes'?"

"That's my stepdad's last name," the young man explained, "but I kept my dad's last name: I'm the only child of an only child."

"Ooh," she responded, catching on, "So, is it true that your mom and stepdad are going to turn the place into a bed and breakfast?"

"That's the plan," Bobby answered with a shrug. "It's always been Nathan's dream to own his own hotel, and my mom just needed to get way from Gotham. All I really know is that it's an old place and comes with enough money to pay off the inheritance fees."

"You'll like it, Bobby," Eli promised, "It has a pool and a tennis court, and I've heard the library is better stocked than the county library."

"Cool, the young man exclaimed, turning to his new friend, "Any chance we can practice at my place?"

Mary rolled her eyes, bemoaning, "My parent's would never let me hang out at a boy's house."

Eli chuckled at that: apparently he knew the Bromfield's. Of course, in a town as small as West Brook, there really was nothing keeping the Chief of Police from knowing everyone.

"Trust me," she put in, "We're better off meeting here – there's a youth center around the corner the club can meet at."

"ROBERT," Nathan's voice barked. "I'm sorry officer, what's he done this time?"

Everyone turned to see Nathan Barnes jogging to the tennis court.

"Mr. Barnes, I presume," Eli responded cordially, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "My name is Elisha Kingston: I'm the Chief of Police for West Brook and Bobby's godfather. I was Joshua's partner back in Gotham."

"Oh, um, hello, sir," Nathan responded, shaking the man's hand. "So, Robert . . .?"

"Isn't in any trouble," Eli assured the stepfather with an expression of good humor on his face. "I guess he's still beating up bullies after school?"

"When he isn't scrambling over across rooftops so he can take pictures of who knows what," Nathan added in an exasperated tone.

"ELISHA!" Bobby's mom squealed as she joined the group. "I heard you'd made chief in a small town, but I didn't know that it was this one!" She hugged the big man as if he were a teddy bear. Seeing Mary, the woman asked, "Oh, and who are you, young lady?"

"I'm Mary Bromfield, ma'am; your new neighbor. Bobby was just telling me that he was on the Tennis Team in Gotham. From the watch we just played he'll be vital to our making State this year."

"That would be great," the mother gushed, "Oh, Robert; it would be wonderful to see you compete again, honey."

"I'll try out, mom; but honestly, if the others are at least half as good as Mary they won't need me." He gave Mary a wink before changing the subject, "So, how did things go with the Zoning Clerk?"

Sounding a little disappointed the woman admitted, "Well, it will be a little while to get everything settled, but it's looking good." To the police chief she said, "It's great to see you, Eli. You have to bring Monet, Tyler and Giselle over for dinner: how about tomorrow night?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose, not with you moving in and all," Eli countered.

"No, please, I insist," the woman steamrolled over the reluctance. "Mary, you're invited too, and your parents as well. There's a tennis court on the grounds, if you'd like to have club practice at our place."

"Thank you, Mrs. Trevor,"

"Barnes," Nathan corrected, giving his wife a hug and a loving smile. "Come on, Samantha, I think we're embarrassing Robert by talking to his girlfriend." He gave Bobby's shoulder a shake, which he shrugged out of."

His mom reached out and patted his hair to sooth the young man, saying, "Well, we're all done here, but Nathan and I could get a bite to eat if you want to play another set with Mary."

Bobby was torn between his embarrassment and desire to hang out with Mary more, but the young woman spoke up, saying, "Actually, I'm bushed – between Bette and Bobby I've reached my limit. The first meeting of the Tennis Club is a week after tomorrow at the youth center – I hope to see you there, Bobby."

There was a mischievous sparkle in her brown eyes that robbed Bobby of his confidence. "Um, so I'll see you then." He wasn't sure if he should shake her hand, or give her a hug, or what. "Uh, Bye."

"Bye, Bobby," she said, in a coy tone of voice

"Bye," he repeated around a sudden lump in his throat, and then followed his parents back to the car.

"She's cute," his mom teased.

"MOM," the young man exclaimed.

"I'm just saying," she went on.

"I don't know, I liked Stephanie," Nathan put in.

Bobby didn't bother answering. His last girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, had been keeping secrets and ducking out of study sessions. It had taken him a while to figure out her secret – her wife-beating dad, Arthur "Cluemaster" Brown had been released from prison, and Stephanie was dressing up in costume trying to spoil her old man's newest crime spree. He'd helped by taking photos of Cluemaster in action, which Stephanie had used to prove to the Probation Officer that her dad had gone back to his criminal ways. Her dad had gone back to prison, but Stephanie had wanted to continue her career as "The Spoiler", and Bobby hadn't been ready to support a crime-fighting girlfriend.

She'd been cool with it, saying that she'd met a 'really great guy', and that she'd been trying to figure out a way to call it off with him, Bobby, for weeks. It had been just after that when his parents had learned of 'Uncle Gene's' passing.

In silence the young man watched as they left town and entered the mountains. Forested plateaus, the mountains were actually the foothills of the Appalachian Mountain Range further west. Most had an eroded face of stone that looked perfect for climbing. A couple miles outside of town they pulled off the main road onto a side street that turned out to be a driveway.

The dense forest abruptly ended at the palisades, stone pillars topped by a sun on the southern palisade and a moon on the northern one. An expanse of gently rolling field of green grass, bordered by square hedges and supporting shade trees, led up to a massive house. Bobby wasn't sure what era it was supposed to represent, or the overall dimensions based because the front was so massive he couldn't see the sides.

The core of it was comfortingly gothic, like most of the architecture in Gotham City – interlocked stone with very little sign of mortar, dark and familiar, towering an imposing six stories at the highest point. On either side there appeared to be more contemporary additions, perhaps Greek revival, rising four stories, if you included the gabled attic. A fountain in the round-about featured a dancing satyr: Pan playing his pipes.

A converted carriage house served as a garage, but out of the dozens of parking spaces only two were taken, one by a utility truck and the other by a motorcycle.

It was a blue sportster hard-tail with a 120cc engine – more powerful than the scooter that Stephanie had ridden around on, but not so powerful as to be too dangerous to an intermediate rider. He circled the machine, spotting the key in the ignition and a helmet hanging from a hook on the wall. The young man could easily imagine himself cruising down the road on the machine, perhaps with a certain brunette behind him, laughing in his ear? Looking over his shoulder he smiled and called out, "Dibs."

Sam Barnes led her family up to the oak front doors and inserted the key she'd gotten at the meeting with the executor of her great-uncle's Last Will and Testament. The woman almost expected her Uncle Gene to throw open the doors and sweep her into a hug, but as the lock clicked she was disappointed that the old man she remembered wasn't there to greet her. Instead the door opened onto an empty lobby. Burying her grief she cheerfully called out to her family, "Welcome home!"

"You could play Frisbee in here without worrying about breaking anything," Nathan pointed out as he looked around.

She giggled, remembering doing just that a few times. He was right, as the lobby was twenty feet wide, forty feet deep, and thirty feet high, with three massive chandeliers to light it. Two doors and a staircase led off the room – the doors heading further into the house, and the staircase leading up to a landing where the wide double doors opened onto the ballroom, and branched off to the left and right to stairs up to a balcony that circled the room. Doors off the balcony also lead further into the house. While dark granite had been used on the exterior, marble and other light-colored stones had been used on the interior, accented by hardwoods. There was very little in the way of furniture, but this was meant to be an imposing space.

"How many rooms does this place have?" Robert wondered as he turned in a circle to take it all in.

"There are 58 bedrooms, 65 bedrooms, a ballroom, sitting rooms, a tea room, theater room, library, solarium, and a dozen other rooms I don't have a name for," Samantha answered, ticking them off on her fingers. "The basement has a wine cellar and storage areas, and the attic has more storage areas along with what used to be quarters for maids."

"Can I make that my bedroom?" Robert asked. He'd always enjoyed being as high up as possible – it had frightened Sam when her baby boy had been little.

"Sure, honey. You know, all it would take is a hammer and we could knock down a few walls, and make you a nice little apartment for when Mary comes over," the woman teased her son.

"MOM," he exclaimed, nearly dropping the boxes he was holding.

Laughing, she chided, "Let me have my fun. You were dating Stephanie for six months before you even brought her home."

"Six weeks," he corrected, sourly, "and you were still scary back then."

With a cringe she put the memories of what she'd been like back then aside. "Well, I'm not scary now and Mary does seem a lovely girl."

"You've got to admit that she's right, Robert," Nathan remarked.

Robert ignored his stepfather, as usual, and Sam perched her lips. It was wrong that the two were at odds, but she'd promised Robert not to explain things to Nathan. The truth was that Nathan had to stop trying to be a father and start being a friend.

Shouldering his bags, the young man started looking for the way into the attic.

When he was gone Nathan came over, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. "I just don't get it. Every time I try to encourage him he turns away. My bonehead move on the tennis court probably didn't help."

"Honey, don't be so hard on yourself," she told her husband, wrapping her arms around him.

Once everything was moved in Bobby grabbed a hammer and started planning out how many walls he wanted to knock down. The walls were thin, only a centimeter at best, set tongue-in-grove into 1x1 boards that were nailed to the floor. An effective screen, they didn't block sound, but by sandwiching cardboard or polystyrene between two of the wall sections it would block a small amount of noise. Using one of the wall sections he sketched out the current floor plan and then scrubbed out the walls he wanted to remove. It took a couple of tries, but he eventually figured out what he wanted.

"Robert?" Nathan said as he came up the stairs. Bobby ignored the man, which did nothing to dissuade his stepfather. "I guess you're still mad at me, huh? Look, I didn't mean to overreact, but you have to admit that your record is against you."

The man pulled out another hammer from the toolbox and looked at the map. "Wow, you really are going to make an apartment out of this place," Nathan murmured.

As there was plenty of room in the attic the plan called for a front room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. The staircase up from the third floor and the bathroom plumbing dictated the overall shape, as well as the safety issue of having a window in each room. It was nearly 550 sq. ft., which was a little over a third the size of the brownstone apartment where Bobby had grown up.

"So, Monet Kingston called and canceled for tomorrow," the man said as he used his hammer to uproot nails. "Your mom called the Bromfield's and rescheduled for Saturday. So, I was thinking that tomorrow we could go back to East Brook, to that mall we passed."

"I'd like that," Bobby said, smiling at the man while he held a wall panel in his stepfather stacked the folded cardboard boxes into the gap. "I need to get a new racket if I'm going to be playing tennis this year."

He was glad that he didn't have to ask for money, because his book of pictures was still selling at a steady pace. It was good, because Bobby had the feeling that even with the inheritance his parents were still scraping by.

As they were hammering the panel into place his mom came up balancing a tray of sandwiches and cups in one hand and held a pitcher of lemonade in the other hand. "I thought my mighty men might need a break," she announced, setting the tray down.

Both men stepped away from the work to down the offered food. "You know, I remember when Uncle Gene was still employing servants," she mused. "I'd come up here at night and listen to them gossip."

"How does this place stay clean?" Bobby asked, worried about having chores after school that would take up his time for sports.

"Oh, Uncle Gene automated the whole thing," she answered. "He was an inventor, held the patent on all sorts of things, including some robot designs that vacuum and dust when no one is around."

"How are they controlled?" he wondered between bites of his fourth sandwich.

Apparently it wasn't something that his mom had thought about before. "I think they're controlled by the computer in the library," she answered. "Now, don't get any funny ideas, Robert. I don't want the robots running around and," she paused to come up with something bad enough, "and acting out scenes from the "Three Stooges" or something."

"That's more my style, honey," Nathan pointed out.

His mom and stepdad shared a loving look that Bobby found heartwarming. The young man liked Nathan, really, but the man was too preoccupied with being a husband to be much more than a 'Parental Authority Figure'. Dad's weren't supposed to be just authority figures, but Nathan hadn't figured that out yet.

Speaking up, the young man announced, "I think we're ready to bring a bed up. That way I'll have somewhere to sleep tonight."

The house was split into four areas, or wings, Bobby thought they were supposed to be called. South Wing, the left side of the house, had larger bedrooms but served the same purpose as North Wing. Both were connected to what the young man thought was the East Wing, which held the entry, main staircase, ballroom, and other rooms that he had no name for. The layout was confusing, because there were no halls in that part of the house; the rooms opened onto other rooms. Off the back of the ballroom there was a solarium that connected the main house to the tower that held the library – which Bobby thought of as the West Wing.

After bringing up a couple of beds, a couch, some tables and chairs, they gathered in the kitchen, which was under the ballroom. It was a big, professional space, designed for a master chef to lead dozens of other cooks in crafting formal dinners. Bobby immediately set to work, exploring the pantry and refrigerator until he found what he needed to make chicken ramen, one of his specialties. Cooking was one of the skills he'd picked up while his mom had pretty much been comatose with grief following his dad's death.

He'd lived in constant fear during those days, trying to make sure that no one even suspected that his rom was unable to provide support. Bobby was fairly sure that Child Protective Services would have put him in an orphanage, and his mom in an asylum, if they found out. So, he'd worked hard to keep the secret, going so far as to lie to his friends and family; he'd cooked, cleaned, worked to make the difference between the life insurance policy and their needs.

"You're going to make someone a wonderful wife one day," Nathan joked as Bobby cracked egg over three bowls of noodles, vegetables, and broth.

"Well, I would hope that she was wonderful before I married her," Bobby threw back.

They all got a laugh at that.

Bobby loved his new room, but the place was still new. He wasn't sure if it was the bed, the sound of the wind, or the light coming through the windows, but he couldn't get to sleep. Getting up, he put on his sandals and headed over to the library; the tower at the end of the solarium. The first floor was lined with bookshelves that were only broken by the doors from the solarium and into the grounds and a pair of fireplaces equidistant from the doors. The ground floor had chairs around research tables and couches flanking coffee tables, giving it the air of a standard, public library, only a little grander. In the very center of the ground floor there was a circle of computer terminals that connected to servers in a glass enclosure hanging from the ceiling 60 feet up. A pair of wrought-iron balconies followed the wall, complete with their own ring of bookshelves; the shelves on the second balcony were extra tall, and had a ladder on tracks to reach the top.

Uncle Gene, as his mom called the man, had collected books on just about every subject under the sun. Biology, botany, sociology, psychology, mythology, archeology, medicine, religion, mathematics, mechanics, true crime, pulp fiction, science fiction, fantasy, and even a section on the occult. Most of it first edition stuff: expensive, even when first edition was the only edition. The computer held a search program that helped the user find books in the library through the use of a tracking chip inserted into the spine of each book.

Sitting down at the computer, Bobby ran a search for all the books on record, and found that the system's range was about a mile – which included the whole house and a chunk of the property. An index showed books in green, inside the library, in yellow, inside the house or on the property, and in red, outside the tracking range. It could even display the location of the books on a 3D map.

That was how he found the secret room.

One of the books in yellow was shown to be UNDER the library, but there was nothing in the floor plan about a room under the tower. Bobby started poking around, looking for evidence of a trap door in the bookshelves, under the area rugs and tables, up on the balconies. He finally found it inside the south fireplace, the latch hidden up the flue, which opened a section of paneling next to the mantle, revealing a narrow staircase like the one that led to his new apartment.

He followed that down into a library that looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. Against one wall there was a whiteboard filled with markings that looked more like the occult than scientific notation, and then there were the objects lying around the room. One corner was dedicated to a caldron with a charred blue residue inside, and a pegboard held a series of medallions that ranged from benign to sinister; the worst being an inverted pentagram of silver wire supporting six eye-like rubies.

On the center table, in pride of place, was a metal sleeve designed to fit over a person's forearm from wrist to elbow; made of a dense metallic mesh that supported an oval plate of the same metal. Lines of glyphs that looked both ancient and alien were stamped into the metal, forming three stars in relief. Unlike the stuff on the pegboard the sleeve didn't seem threatening, so the teen picked it up to examine it more closely.

It was oddly light, the metal almost seemed to float in his hand, and on a whim he decided to try it on.

His left arm fit easily through the sleeve, but it had been sized for someone a little bigger than Bobby, and probably a lot older. Just as his wrist passed the other end of the metal mesh flexed, conforming to his arm while the trio of stars began to glow the primary colors, the color passing into the glyphs in swirling patterns. Grabbing the end near his elbow he tugged, but the sleeve refused to budge as the colors bled back into the stars and dimmed until there was only the gold-tinted metal. Even after the lightshow ended, though, the bracer refused to budge, and almost seemed to be fused to his arm.

"Well, this isn't good," Bobby mused darkly as he looked around, finding a notebook that he assumed belonged to Uncle Gene. Inside the man detailed several experiments, his handwriting growing progressively worse as it went. It was nearly indecipherable by the end, and the sleeve seemed to be the last of his experiments.

Bobby was able to figure out that it was called a 'bracer', was made of 'Nth metal', and contained 'three forms of Kr crystal' suspended in something called 'toxin'. Occult symbols were factored into scientific notation which could have been a way to remove the bracer or the meaning of life, for all he knew.

He was going to have to tell his parents, and he could only imagine the fall out. Figuring out that there wasn't really anything he could do at the moment, he put everything back and then climbed out the way he'd come. Sealing the door behind him, Bobby headed back to his room and laid down on his bed, falling asleep immediately. Bobby was so deeply asleep that he didn't notice the bracer filling the room with its red, yellow and blue lights.

When morning came the young man woke feeling as if he'd had the best night's sleep in his life. He stretched out, smiling, until he'd felt the slight weight that was holding down his left arm. The bracer was still there, glowing golden in the morning light coming through the wide window. He'd have to tell his parents, but he wasn't ready to do that, yet.

The attic had been equipped with a small bathroom before the need for maids had been eliminated, so Bobby had a place to shower. Dressing in his favorite red boots, comfy blue jeans, a t-shirt and a blue hooded sweater with a faded white star on the front, he headed downstairs for breakfast. The sweater was to cover the bracer as all his other long-sleeved clothes were too dressy for going to the mall, which he wanted to do before he was grounded for, like, forever.

"Good morning, baby," his mom said as she made breakfast.

"Morning, mom," Bobby responded, taking the big plate of food that was put in front of him. He started wolfing it down, careful not to let his left forearm touch the table.

Nathan came down last with a goofy grin on his face. Bobby rolled his eyes – between his mom calling him 'baby' and his stepdad's grin it was easy to tell that they'd had a VERY good night. His mom put a plate of food in front of her husband and sat down beside him, playing cute. She'd been doing that a lot, lately; playing cute with Nathan, and now that he thought about it she sometimes glared at women who eyed her husband. It was a little creepy, actually.

"So, Robert, is there anything besides a racket you want to get while we're at the mall?" Nathan asked.

Bobby put his fork down and stood up. "Mom, I'm ready to go when you guys are."

It took another hour before his parents were read, and then they all piled into the car for the 70 mile drive to East Brook. Bobby eyed the motorcycle, but knew he wasn't up for an hour or more in the saddle. About half the size of Gotham, East Brook was the shopper's Mecca for the entire county, and at least one of the bordering counties. They had seen it from the freeway the previous day, but the byway off ramp had led them away before either of them had gotten more than a look.

Three stories of storefronts supported shops, boutiques, restaurants, a couple of convenience stores, and even a bank branch on the third floor. There was something for everyone, and the family went their separate ways to find the things that interested them. As there were a couple of different sports stores Bobby bounced between them, comparing different brands of tennis rackets. In order to avoid an impulse buy, he stopped by the food court for lunch before making his decision and heading back to the third floor to make his purchase.

He heard screams, and saw a man coming out of the bank branch pulling a bulging backpack onto his shoulder with one hand and trying to stuff a revolver into pistol holster under his arm that was designed for a semi-auto. Bobby was the son of a police officer, and couldn't simply stand by while a crime was being committed, but he also wasn't stupid. Getting into a wrestling match with a gunman was a stupid way to die. The young man stepped up to body-check the man, but the gunman moved with blinding speed to grab Bobby's sweater and tossing him over the balcony rail. His foot caught on the rail, turning him around, so that he was looking down at the wood and glass kiosk on the ground floor.

_No, I don't want to die_, Bobby thought, and he closed his eyes.

That proverbial moment of life flashing before your eyes played out behind the young man's lids. He saw all the triumphs and disappointments, the things he'd accomplished and the things he would never get to do. Bobby was angry at the gunman for throwing him off the balcony, he was afraid of what his death would do to his mom, but he also had a flash of hope as he thought of his father waiting for him in whatever came next.

He had a lot of time to consider it, enough time to become ashamed of the thought. His thoughts also became a little repetitive, and he opened his eyes, wondering why he hadn't hit the ground yet, only to find himself staring into the face of the very startled kiosk vender. Looking around, Bobby tried to figure out what was holding him up, and found himself rotating so that he was upright. There were lights under his left sleeve, and he pulled it up to reveal the bracer, which was glowing red, yellow and blue, under the gold metal, and it felt like there was something spinning under each star. It was like holding a trio of cd players to his arm.

A woman passed him in midair, looking back over her shoulder just long enough for Bobby to recognize her. Black hair, blue eyes, the body of a supermodel, and powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with Superman: she was Wonder Woman! She wasn't wearing the spectacularly revealing costume, but white linen pants, a white top, a denim jacket, and red boots, which might have been the only part of her costume that she was wearing at the moment. He'd passed her a couple of times in the crowd without realizing who she was.

Curiosity drew him, and Bobby found himself flying after Wonder Woman, catching up with her as she slowed. They were approaching an armed standoff – a one-sided armed standoff – as Joe-gunman was the only one carrying a gun. Security, holding tazers that they didn't dare use, had cut off the bank robber at the entrance to a department store, but rather than give himself up the crook had taken an infant hostage. The pink bundle the man held to his chest was screaming, the baby's mother was wailing, "My baby; my baby!" and the gunman was yelling at everyone to "Stay back, or the baby gets it!"

Flying was as easy as thinking about where he wanted to go, and he found himself dropping down to the second story so that he could come through the store and up an escalator to come up on the other side of the conflict. He saw Wonder Woman standing with the mall cops: she made eye contact with Bobby, giving him a small nod of recognition and, he thought, approval. Joe-gunman was holding the child tightly to his chest while rooting around in his coat with that hand; meanwhile the other hand was holding the gun to the baby's head. Bobby touched the bracer and felt the three disks still spinning, so he made eye contact again and nodded, preparing himself to act.

He wasn't sure what powers the bracer gave him, so he'd leave the gunman to Wonder Woman and focus on getting the baby safely out of harm's way.

Whatever the gunman was looking for in his coat he found it, but Bobby couldn't tell what it was. All he knew was that his moment to act had come as the man loosened his grip, and the baby in her pink blanket slipped from Joe-guman's arm. Like a baseball player sliding for home, Bobby flew low along the ground, caught the child, and glided along past the mall cops on the other side of the conflict. Meanwhile, Wonder Woman flew forward to take on the gunman, who took shots at her with his revolver that she deflected off the long metal bracelets she wore.

Coming up slightly, Bobby landed on his knees, the baby cradled gently in his arms. The infant's mother was at his shoulder, clawing for her child, which he gave over to the nearly hysterical woman. Relieved of that responsibility he turned to see how Wonder Woman was doing, and just had time to bowl the mother/child pair out of the way when the Amazon princess when flying past them. Wonder Woman crashed through the window of a women's lingerie store with Joe-gunman looking 9 kinds of crazy as he leapt after her, tossing the spent revolver aside.

Bobby knew, or at least he thought, that Wonder Woman would need time to recover, so he acted to delay, tackling the crazed criminal with enough force to send them both over the rail. Grappling with the man, Bobby turned so that he would take the worst of the hit, but barely felt the impact when they hit the first floor. He rolled out of it, coming up to find that Joe-gunman hadn't been much affected by the landing either, and was coming after Bobby with a mad gleam and rictus smile.

Reaching out, the young man grabbed the crazy's collar and pulled, rolling onto his back, and placing a foot against the man's chest he kicked off, sending the gunman through the window of one of the sporting goods stores; one that specialized in team memorabilia. With a thought Bobby was back on his feet, and he flew forward only to be met by a baseball bat being swung at his head. He brought up his arms to block, and the bat bounced off his left forearm, vibrating with enough force to cause the juiced up gunman to drop it. Bobby grabbed the gunman and threw him back out the broken window to a waiting Wonder Woman, who held out her arm in a close-line move that looked almost choreographed.

Bobby moved to follow the man out, but then spotted an old man lying on the floor clutching his chest. He changed course, coming to land next to the man, who had passed out, taking in the pale, clammy skin and short gasps of breath. "Call 911," he shouted at the clerk cowering behind her booth. Putting his ear to the man's chest Bobby listened for a heartbeat, and, hearing none, began CPR, being careful with his strength.

"I have aspirin," one woman announced, rushing forward and dumping out her purse in a quest to find the drug.

"Crush it up and put it on his tongue," Bobby ordered as the old man gasped and coughed. Putting his ear back to the man's chest the teenager was relieved to hear the heart beating again.

The woman did as she was told, and the young man turned to see what was going on with Wonder Woman. She was going toe-to-toe with Joe-gunman, and shockingly the juiced up criminal was actually holding his own against the warrior-born. In speed and strength the two were matched, but when it came to technique the woman had the man beat hands down. Bobby had never been one for martial arts – his brand of fighting had been learned on the streets, behind school buildings, as a last resort against bullies – but he couldn't help but be impressed at the way the Amazon princess was going at her opponent. She was methodical, but the warrior woman didn't seem to realize that Joe-gunman was coming down from whatever high he'd been on – it was easy to tell after seeing it happen time and again at sporting events in the greater Gotham area.

Jumping into the middle of a fight involving a United Nations Ambassador, not to mention arguably the most powerful superhero on the planet, wasn't something Bobby was looking forward to, but he did it anyway. Putting the man into a full-nelson, Bobby pulled the man into the air, keeping his back to Wonder Woman, who seemed intent on keeping up the fight. It soon became obvious to everyone that the crook was at the end of his juice.

Roars of rage started turning to pants, then groans, and then screams of pain, and Bobby landed next to a fountain near one of the entrances, calling out, "This man needs medical attention."

"Hera," Diana exclaimed as she watched the man writhe, "I knew that the drug he used was bad, but who would do this to themselves?"

"Lots of people, for lots of reasons, each reason as stupid as the next," Bobby sighed as he tried to keep the man from hurting himself. "This, however, takes the cake: I've never seen such a bad detox."

Paramedics arrived, and both Bobby and Wonder Woman were needed to move the still thrashing man onto the gurney. Once the restraints were applied, however, the first-responders had things in hand, and the two stepped back to let the medics work.

Wonder Woman put her hand on his shoulder, saying, "Thank you for your assistance, young man, but who are you?"

"Oh, right," he replied, pushing back his hood, "my name is Robert Steven Trevor, but my friends call me Bobby."

"Steven Trevor?" the woman wondered aloud.

Bobby remembered his grandfather's crazier stories, but he'd thought that it was part of the Alzheimer's – mixing up current events with past experiences. Tentatively, he clarified, "My grandfather . . . he calls you his 'Angel'?"

Diana smiled and nodded; and suddenly crazy Grandpa Steve didn't seem so crazy.

"ROBERT," his mom called out, breaking through the circle of onlookers. "Robert, what happened?"

"It's alright, ma'am," Diana stepped in, probably trying to help out. She had no idea what she was stepping into though. "Your son helped me bring down a very dangerous criminal."

"Robert: how could you?" the woman turned on her son. "It's bad enough that you get into fights with bullies at school, now you're picking fights with criminals?"

"That's not . . .," Bobby tried to explain.

"Robert, I can't believe that you would do this," Nathan interrupted, "you could have been killed. Did you even think what this would do to your mother and I?"

"SHUT UP," Bobby roared, taking half a step forward so that he and his stepdad were inches apart. "You don't care what happens to me – all you care about is how it would affect you and mom."

Kicking off the ground, Bobby rose over the crowd and flew for the exit, zipping past a startled family who'd just triggered the sliding glass doors. Once he was past the overhang he rocketed into the sky until the people on the ground looked like ants. Pulling up his hood Bobby took a few calming breaths before trying to figure out who he was going to explain all of what happened to his mom in a way that didn't give her a heart attack.

Thinking about heart attacks reminded him of the man in the sports memorabilia store, and he looked down to see another ambulance loading up a patient who might or might not have been the old man. Other emergency vehicles had arrived, but so far as he was able to tell the police were just taking statements and the firemen had nothing to do. After about half an hour Wonder Woman came out of the mall, spotted him, and rose into the air to join Bobby.

Bobby spoke first, apologizing for his family, "I'm sorry that you walked into that."

"Your parents seemed very surprised when you few off," she replied.

"Yea, that's new," Bobby said, holding up his left arm. "I found this in my great-great uncle's workshop under the library of the house he left us. This, along with some really sinister looking stuff, but this was the only one I tried on. Now it won't come off."

She traced the lines of glyphs and confessed, "I've seen these marks before – they are Thanagarian spells. You can't remove the bracer?"

"Yea, I've tried everything but hacking my own limb off," he exaggerated. He tugged on the sleeve for emphasis, saying, "It feels more like a shackle than a bracer right now."

"I've heard power described that way, sometimes," Diana nodded with something like approval in her eyes. Reaching up to her ear she removed a small earpiece that she held out. "This is a Justice League communicator. Just put it in your ear and tap it, and it will connect you to the Watch Tower."

Bobby held up his hands, protesting, "I couldn't."

"Please?" she pressed, "Just in case you ever need help." When Bobby took the device she promised, "I'll get the best mystics in the League to look into the problem – they'll figure out a way to take the bracer off."

"Thank you, Wonder Woman," he told her wholeheartedly. "What happened to the old man in the shop?"

"He'll live," she assured him, "and you can call me Diana. I hope to see you around, Bobby Trevor."

"Yea, see ya, Diana," Bobby replied, trying to keep from blushing.

He could see two people standing by their car, and when he dropped down he saw that it was his mom and Nathan. Joining them he suggested, "Let's get going before we get mobbed."

They all climbed into the car with Nathan growling, "As soon as we get home you have got a lot of explaining to do, young man."

**End Chapter One:** New


	2. Deny

Wonder Boy – Part I – Reluctant

Chapter Two: Deny

Getting out of the parking lot was a chore – people were pouring out of the mall looking for where Wonder Woman had gone. In the back seat of the car, Bobby pulled off his hooded sweater and draped it over his left arm. People peered into every car, but no one expected a teenage superhero to be riding in the back seat of a powder blue sedan. Without the blue star on his chest or the bracer visible, people didn't recognize him for the boy who'd been fighting inside.

As the car cleared the parking lot his mom, Samantha Barnes, looked into the backseat and asked, "What happened, Robert?"

Showing them the bracer he answered, "I found this in a hidden room under the library – I think that Uncle Gene was working on something crazy. Anyway, I put it on and now I couldn't get it off. I didn't know that it gave me superpowers until that bank robber tossed me over the third floor balcony rail."

"And why would he do that?" Nathan asked.

"I stepped out to body block him when he passed me. He was skinnier than me, I thought I could check him, slow him down for the cops. He must have been using when he left the bak because he threw me one-handed," Bobby told them.

"Just goes to show you what a boneheaded move that was, Robert," Nathan accused.

"I was raised by a cop, Nathan; I was taught that every citizen has the obligation to do what they can. Even in Gotham I never stood idly by when there was something I could do to help someone else," Bobby shouted. "I saw a situation, figured out who to help without putting others in undo danger, and miscalculated."

"You miscalculated alright, damn it," Nathan cursed.

"NATHAN!" Samantha slapped the man's arm. "Language?"

The man took a deep breath and apologized, "Sorry, it's just that one of the reasons we moved out here was to keep Robert out of fights."

"Robert knows how to read a situation, Nathan," the woman chided. "Joshua taught him to only delay criminals until the authorities arrive."

"It was still a boneheaded thing to do, Robert," the man growled.

"I was only going to trip the man up. Anyway, as I was falling the bracer activated and suddenly I was flying," the young man explained.

"What other powers does it have?" Samantha wondered.

"Well, super-strength, for one – I tossed the gunman into a bunch of weightlifting equipment and then threw him ten yards to Princess Diana. Super-toughness, too, I think. I tackled the guy over the third floor rail when he went after Wonder Woman."

"I thought you said that he tossed you?" Nathan countered.

"This was later, after the powers activated," Bobby explained. "Anyway, I hit the first floor and barely felt it."

"Flight, super-strength, super-toughness; anything else?" his mom asked.

"No, not that I'm aware of," Bobby said, touching the bracer. He couldn't feel whatever was inside spinning, and noted, "I think it just turned off."

"How can you tell?" Samantha asked.

"I could feel something spinning under the plate, but it stopped spinning, so I figure that it's turned off," he reasoned.

Patting her husband's arm, Samantha pointed him to an exit, saying, "Get off here, honey."

"Why," Nathan asked as he pulled off the freeway.

Bobby answered, "Because I need to give a statement to the police. It's the responsible thing to do."

The old brownstone building was the County Sheriff's office, which was probably better than the local police station for what Bobby was about to do. He pulled his sweater back on and pulled up the left sleeve, leaving the hood down. Stepping inside he walked up to the desk officer and said, "I'd like to make a statement about what happened at the mall."

"Uh, huh," the deputy muttered without looking away from the ballgame that was playing on TV.

Putting his left arm on the desk, Bobby stressed, "I'd really like to make a statement about what happened at the mall."

On the TV the game was cut off by 'breaking news'. _"This just in from the East Brook Mall: an attempted bank robbery turned violent when the gunman was corner by the security. Things turned for the worst when the robber took an infant hostage. Fortunately, Wonder Woman was on the scene to handle things when the man injected himself with some kind of strength-enhancing drug. Aided by an as yet unidentified teenager, the criminal was apprehended with no one hurt – the baby is safely back with her mother and the crook is being treated for sever withdrawal. The status and whereabouts of the teen hero is unknown – Viral Videos on the web have already dubbed him 'Wonder Boy'."_

The officer looked from the TV to Bobby's bracer, and back.

"Can I give a statement now?" Bobby asked.

Nate cringed as he watched through the one-way mirror as his stepson was grilled by the Sheriff himself. The man wore his uniform with authority, and was no fan of teenage heroes. What was really disconcerting was that Nathan saw himself in the law enforcement officer.

Through it all, Bobby faced it bravely, answering the questions time and again with a stoicism that Nate had seen before in the boy's tolerance of his stepdad.

"Is that really what I'm like?" the man wondered.

"Robert doesn't think so," Samantha answered. "He loves you, but you're just trying too hard."

Beyond the glass the Sheriff was finishing up, "So, what am I supposed to call you – Wonder Boy?"

"Look, as soon as I can figure out how this thing comes off you won't have to call me anything," Bobby responded. "Until then I guess 'Wonder Boy'," he filled the title with scorn, "is good enough."

"Alright, then that's all that I have," the Sheriff said, standing up. "I'll have to contact the DEO, FBI and Department of Homeland Security. Don't use your powers unless you have to. Understood?"

"Of course, sir," Robert responded, getting up and pulling off his sweater, using it to cover his bracer again.

Following Samantha out, Nate met up with his stepson and then accompanied the pair out to the car. It was comforting to know that Robert hadn't swung a single punch besides sending the man into the weight lifting equipment. True to his word, the young man had been delaying the criminal until Wonder Woman could take over. When he recognized the withdrawal symptoms, the boy had pulled the man to safety until the drug's effects had run their course.

There was every reason to be proud of the boy.

"Come on, son, let's go home," Nate said, giving the boy a sideways hug.

Surprisingly, Robert hugged back.

The ride home was quiet – all of them knew the whole story now, so there was really nothing to talk about. It was an hour drive back home, and Sam spent the entire drive wondering what her first husband would have done in this situation. Joshua would have sat Robert down and talked to him about duty and responsibility, and gone to Eli to get Bobby enrolled in the Junior Deputy program.

She planned on calling Elisha Brown first thing when they arrived, but it turned out that she didn't need to make the call. The police were out front of her house, in force. Wondering if this had anything to do with the new reports, she parked the car and went to join the Chief of Police.

"Chief Brown?" she asked, coming to stand with the man. "What's going on?"

"The alarm system on the Library went off – my officers are checking it out now," the man explained, sending a chill of dread down her back.

One of the officers came out of the library, saying, "We found something weird, sir. I think you should check it out."

Nodding, Eli jogged forward, and Sam followed him. The Chief made no complaint, so the officers allowed her through the line.

Just like Robert had said there was a secret staircase in the side of the fireplace. At the bottom was a room, but there were none of the sinister looking talismans that had been described to her. The caldron wasn't there either, or the whiteboard filled with arcane calculations. The room had been stripped bare with nothing left but the brackets that had once held tables to the floor – broken stone and wood shavings bore mute evidence that the tables had been there recently.

"Do you know what was down here, Samantha?" Eli asked.

"My Great-Uncle's workshop, I think," she answered, looking at a spot in the corner where stones had been pulled up. If she'd been a betting woman Sam would have put money down that the stones had been under the caldron that Robert had described. "Robert found this room last night. I'd better go talk to him."

Climbing the stairs, Sam found her son standing outside the cordoned area. "Robert, do you still have that JL Communicator?"

"Yea," he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Call them, and tell them that someone stole all Uncle Gene's stuff," she sighed.

He put the bud in his ear and tapped it once.

"Watch Tower," a deep voice answered.

"Hi, this is Bobby Trevor – Wonder Woman gave me her communicator," he explained, feeling silly.

"Hey, I'm Mr. Terrific, Diana told me to keep an ear out for your call. How can I help?"

"Well, I got my power from a bracer I found in my great-great-uncle Gene's workshop, and it looks like someone stole something out of the workshop while my parents and I were out of town," he explained. "Could you send someone over to investigate? Some of it looked pretty dangerous."

"I'm sending down Wonder Woman, Etrigan, and Captain Atom," Mr. Terrific responded.

"Uh, standing by, Watch Tower," Bobby responded, not sure exactly what he should say in the situation.

Three lights glowed nearby, condensing into three individuals. Diana was now wearing the red, white and blue bikini that passed for her costume. Captain Atom was wearing his necessary silver containment suit with the red atomic symbol on his chest. Etrigan was hunch-backed, yellow-skinned, and wearing what looked like red long-johns and a blue cape.

"Hi," Bobby said. "Chief Brown, this is Wonder Woman, Captain Atom, and Etrigan, of the Justice League. Justice League, this is Chief Elisha Brown."

"Chief," Wonder Woman nodded. "What can you tell us about the situation?"

A little wrong footed, the Chief explained, "We were alerted to the brake in by the silent alarm and arrived to find that the main alarm had been disabled, but the backup alarm on the library had been missed. Whoever broke in took nothing but the contents of some hidden lab under the library. We've been searching for prints and fibers, but so far we've come up with nothing. Can you tell me why the Justice League is interested?"

"They're interested because of the boy," a woman announced. African American and somewhat overweight, the woman climbed out of a limo radiating authority. "I'm interested because Eugene Gottfried used to work for me. Amanda Waller, Cadmus Labs, nice to meet you."

"And why is the Justice League interested in a private citizen?" Elisha asked, looking to the Leaguers."

Bobby held up his bracer, pinging it. "The media is calling me Wonder Boy. I found this in the lab last night – it gives me super-strength, super-toughness, and flight powers."

"Huh," the Chief replied.

"Doctor Gottfried's project was to find a way to empower a normal human with magical powers. His words were all unbelievable failures, resulting in his termination from Cadmus. The man retired here – we didn't know that he was continuing the project on his own," Ms. Waller explained.

"Let me see that, boy," Etrigan growled, grabbing the bracer. "Hum, I'm sensing an intelligence powering the bracer – more than one – but not guiding intelligences. They are base, limited . . . elemental."

Captain Atom stepped up next, running his hands over and under the bracer. "There are trace levels of radiation emanating from the bracer, but nothing harmful. I've never sensed this type of radiation before – I don't think it's terrestrial."

"May we see the crime scene, Chief?" Wonder Woman inquired.

Bobby followed them down and saw that the room had been completely stripped of everything to include the tables and chairs. Etrigan was down on all fours, sniffing at the place where the stones had been uprooted.

"They took the stones, but the dirt beneath smells like the substance that Batman has been looking into," the demon growled – Bobby was beginning to suspect that the being had no other way of speaking. "This is more refined, though."

"More powerful?" Wonder Woman asked. "That junkie Bobby and I fought was as strong as I am at full potency."

"I don't know," the creature responded. "You might want to take samples. Boy, what else did you see?"

"Uh, Pentagrams, animal parts – claws and teeth – and gemstones: all the stuff I've ever associated with the occult," Bobby responded. "I remember one was a pendent made out of silver wire, holding four rubies, like eyes – I felt like it was watching me."

Etrigan rounded on Bobby, grabbing him by the throat and demanded, "What did you say, boy?"

Putting his hand on the demon's chest, Bobby pushed the monstrous hero away, his bracer activating for a moment. The demon shot backwards, slamming into the wall hard enough to crack stones.

"Rubbing his throat, Bobby croaked, "It was a silver amulet with four rubies, like eyes."

Growling, the creature started pacing, muttering evilly.

"Etrigan," Wonder Woman said sharply to get his attention, "You recognize that amulet?"

"Yes – I thought I'd destroyed them, and all reference to them, but it seems that the 'good Doctor' created another. It's a doorway, giving the wearer access to the power of a Demon Lord of immense power. I dare not even speak his name," Etrigan growled.

"It was one of Gottfried's early experiments," Waller offered. "It gave the wearer super-strength and fire-control powers, but it also twisted them into psychopaths – we had to put down two of the testers."

"Sounds like a typical day for Cadmus Labs," Diana scoffed.

"I regretted every death under my command, Princess," the other woman countered. "Those deaths were a part of the reason that Doctor Gottfried was terminated. Of course, if I'd known he would create something like the power bracer your boy is wearing I wouldn't have let him go so quickly."

"Speaking of his bracer," Nathan cut in, "How do we get it off him?"

"There was a notebook, but the thieves must have taken it, too," Bobby offered.

Turning to the demon, Nathan demanded, "There must be something you can do."

"Yes, the Demon remarked. "Captain Atom – I assume that you can create a beam that both cuts and cauterizes?"

"I can do that," the Captain responded.

"Wonder Woman, I need you to be ready – Once separated from a guiding influence the elemental forces within the bracer may take control of the limb," Etrigan said, smiling horribly.

"What," Bobby's mom stepped in. "What are we talking about here?"

Diana answered, explaining, "Without that notebook the only sure way we have to remove the bracer is to remove the arm at the elbow. Knowing nothing about its construction, the lib could fly off on its own, controlled by whatever is giving the bracer its power. If we can remove the arm from the bracer then the Justice League can reattach the limb, but again, not knowing, the arm could become necrotic while we wait for the bracer to detach, making replacement impossible."

"Isn't . . . isn't there a less extreme way?" Nathan asked, turning to Captain Atom for an alternative.

"We could stop his heart, fool the bracer into thinking he's dead," the man offered. "Of course, we still don't know enough, so he may suffer cell death before it comes off, which could either paralyze him or turn him into a mental vegetable depending on which cells die while we wait."

His heart beating a mile a minute, Bobby suggested, "How about we do nothing until we know more?"

"A most sensible suggestion," Wonder Woman announced. "When presented with two options the third is most often the best. "I've already contacted Dr. Fate – he's aware of the situation and promised to look into it. Have patience, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes."

Eli, standing at the top of the steps, called down, "So, let me get this straight – Bobby as super powers from a bracer he found in that room before it was cleaned out?"

"Yea, Chief, that's the sum of it," Bobby called back.

Samantha climbed the stairs and the rest of the group followed.

"This room was cleverly hidden," Etrigan noted. "How did you find it, Boy?"

Going over to the computer, Bobby explained, "This has a program that tracks all the books in the library. Books in the library are listed in green, not in the library but in the house are yellow, outside the house but on the property are red, and books outside the range are listed here." He pointed out everything as he went, bringing up the 3D map. "This morning there was a book from the library in the lab, so it was listed yellow. That's how I knew the lab was there. Finding the hatch wasn't easy, but I knew it existed."

"Eh, tenacity," Etrigan responded. "I like this kid already."

"Where is the book now?" Diana inquired, leaning over Bobby's shoulder.

Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Bobby searched the book and found it in the black list. "The book is outside the range of the tracking system. See? It's listed in black."

"I see," the woman said, reaching out to run her finger over the screen. "Maybe we can track the book with our systems. "We'll need something to test with."

Getting up, Bobby grabbed a book on molecular biology and tossed it to the princess. "You can take that and run a test on it – the tracking device is in the spine."

"Thank you, Bobby," she replied, examining the book.

"If this is it, I have things to do," Etrigan remarked in his typical growl.

"Yes, I think we are done," Wonder Woman announced. "Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, a pleasure meeting you again; Chief Brown, please contact us if you get any leads on this case; Bobby, Dr. Fate will be along as soon as he can."

Bobby nodded, telling her, "Thank you, Princess."

She smiled before seeing herself out with the other two trailing behind her."

Chief Brown stepped up and asked, "Bobby, can I speak with you and your parents?"

Samantha took the lead in this, leading the group of four to a sitting area.

When everyone was seated Elisha opened with, "I'm going to have to tell the Mayor, Bobby, about you being Wonder Boy. I know the man well enough to know that he won't like having a teenage superhero running around town. Now, I'll talk to him, get him to understand what a good person you are. Maybe I can get that Junior Deputy program started."

"With all due respect, sir," Bobby countered, "I don't want to be a part of the program under these conditions. I don't want to be a hero; I don't want to be a 'resource'. As soon as the Justice League can give me a good option to get this thing off I'll take it and be done."

Eli nodded and agreed, "If that's the way you want to do this, Bobby, then that's the way we'll play it. But if you use your powers in public you could be charged with Reckless Endangerment and Criminal Negligence, as a start."

"I understand, sir," Bobby nodded.

His mom stood up and requested, "Eli, could I speak with you privately, please?"

Sam led her guest away from her husband and son, out into the Solarium. "I want you to fill out the Junior Deputy paperwork and bring it to me. "I'll sign as the parent, and if Robert is forced to use his power in public I want you to force him to sign it as well."

"You want me to coerce your son into becoming a Junior Deputy?" Eli responded disbelievingly.

"I want you to do your duty as his Godfather and keep him out of trouble," she countered. "Bobby doesn't deserve to be sent to Juvenile Hall for helping people, which is the only reason he'll use his powers. You know that."

"Yea, okay, I'll do it," the man relented. "You know, I've heard of the things that mothers will do for their children, but this takes the cake."

Nodding in response, Sam told him, "Yea, I'm a piece of work, but I've lost a husband to the criminal element – I'm not going to let my son be branded something he's not."

Eli nodded, finally understanding.

Even though he wasn't using his powers it didn't take long for people to figure out that Bobby Trevor was Wonder Boy. The next week Bobby went with Nathan to enroll at the local high school. Most of the funds that Uncle Gene had willed to the city had gone into building a new high school, and it was just opening that year. Bricks and cinderblocks, it was still an impressive building, serving West Brook and the surrounding area.

Bobby had taken to wearing long-sleeved shirts in public to hide the shackle. He looked like a geek, but that was better than people mobbing him for autographs the way they went after Stargirl and that kid up in Dakota Hills. Some people knew though – the woman running the front office seemed to know.

"R . . . Robert Trevor?" she stammered in surprise. "Oh, yes, the Principal will see to your enrollment. Just through there."

Bobby followed Nathan into the office, telling the receptionist, "Thank you."

"Misters Trevor, please, have a seat," the rail-thin principal gestured to a pair of chairs.

"Ah, it's Mr. Barnes," Nathan corrected. "I'm Robert's stepfather."

"Oh, right," the man said, making a mark on his paperwork. "Well, welcome to West Brook Regional High School, Robert, I'm Principal Fisher. There are a few things I wanted to go over with you. First off, Miss Bromfield has been making comments about getting you onto the Tennis Team. I'm afraid that I can't allow that. Your identity might not be common knowledge, but it is public knowledge – people will claim that your having powers constitutes and unfair advantage. It is a battle the School Board is neither prepared nor willing to accept."

Bobby gripped the metal through his shirt, reaffirming his opinion that it was a shackle. "I understand, sir." He still needed an extracurricular for college, so he asked, "Any chance I could get a photographer's position for the school paper?"

He felt like his guts were being twisted as he filled out his class requests. Everything he wanted was out of reach, all because he couldn't keep his curiosity in check. Nathan could tell that Bobby was in a bad mood, but the man had nothing to offer in the way of comfort.

Leaving the school, Bobby headed over to the park and leaned against a tree, wallowing in self pity.

"Hey there, handsome," Mary called out. She jogged over and gave Bobby a hug, much to his embarrassment and delight. "So, the team is getting together at my place tonight. Are you going to be there?"

"Only if you invite me," Bobby half joked. "The, um, the Principal won't let me on the team."

"What? Why not?" she asked, sounding scandalized.

In response, Bobby rolled up his left sleeve and showed her the bracer quickly.

"Oh, God," Mary gasped. "The videos were too grainy to make out a face. You're Wonder Boy?"

"Not so loud," Bobby hissed. "Yea – I found the bracer in Uncle Gene's lab, but before I could figure out how to take it off the lab was robbed. Now I'm stuck with this shackle around my wrist – the school board doesn't want to fight any legal battles, so they've banned me from sports."

"That's so unfair," the young woman roared. "I'll talk to the school board."

Bobby shook his head. "Don't bother," he told her. "I'm joining the School Paper instead, as a photographer. Maybe I can be the official photographer for the Tennis Team?"

"Well, before you give up let's at least have a test," Marry suggested. "You and me, singles, first to 15."

Taking off his dress shirt, Bobby grabbed a racket and entered the court. He'd never been more than a fair player, winning more by tenacity than through technique. From the first serve he could feel the difference, could tell that he was playing on a wholly different level. Mary could tell too as she struggled valiantly to keep up.

He could feel the bracer activating and had to stop to make it shut down, so the game took more than an hour to play out.

In the end he'd won by three points – a close game by anyone's estimate, but it shouldn't have been so close. Still, he pointed out, "I haven't played in nearly two years – there's no way I should have been able to beat you."

"Okay, so you can't be on the team – but you can be an assistant coach. I mean, honestly, playing against you was like playing against Bette – the team could seriously use the challenge," she pressed. With a little more vulnerability she added, "I could use the challenge."

"Alright, alright, I'll help coach," he submitted.

"Yay," Mary cheered, throwing her arms around him for another hug. "I knew I could count on you, Bobby."

He put his hands on her waist, wondering if he dared take the next step. In response she put a finger on his lips and shook her head. "Not yet, Wonder Boy; I'm a classy girl, remember?"

"I remember, but I'd be a fool not to try," he told her with a smile.

"Yes, you would be," she laughed, dancing out of his arms.

"Hello, Mary," Nathan called out as he joined the teens. "Our housewarming party is scheduled for this Saturday. Are you going to be able to make it?"

"Definitely," she cheered, "My mom 's trying to figure out if she should bake or buy."

"Bake," Bobby suggested. "Even if it's disgusting, baked always goes better with my mom; it's the thought that counts."

"Or you could buy something and make it look homemade, if your mom isn't a good cook," Nathan muttered.

Elbowing the man in the ribs, the young man stressed, "Baked – I don't care what kind of cook your mom is, I'll eat whatever she brings."

"And spend the rest of the night in the bathroom," the man joked. "Well, I hate being the party pooper but it's time we get home, Robert."

Bobby let his shoulders drop – the man had been doing so good! He walked away, leaving Nathan with Mary, and heard his stepdad ask:

"What did I do wrong?"

"I don't think he likes being called 'Robert'," Mary pointed out.

Mary Bromfield stepped into the basement of her family estate, surprised by the setup that her father, The Adams-Bromfield, had brought in. She knew that the extra tables and equipment had been stolen from the Gottfried estate, but she didn't understand how it tied into the legacy.

The Bromfield family, into which she'd been adopted, hailed from Egypt, the line going all the way back to the Pharaoh, Teth-Adam. According to the mythology that surrounded the family they were waiting for the Pharaoh's return, which would usher in a new age of prosperity for mankind. Her new adopted father, Theo, claimed that he'd figured out a way to resurrect the God-King, and had invested in the work of various scientists, including Doctor Gottfried.

She could hardly understand how talismans that looked dangerous just sitting on a table were supposed to help bring back a great leader.

Opposite the laboratory the sarcophagus of Teth-Adam was surrounded by the contents of his tomb, which had been cleared centuries before to prevent grave robbers from desecrating his remains. She knelt next to the crypt and prayed as she'd been taught to do since joining the Bromfield family.

"You are very devout," her adopted father, Theo Bromfield, commented as he entered the basement. "That's good. When the Pharaoh is resurrected you will become the avatar of Isis, and become his bride."

Blushing, Mary admitted, "I almost wish you'd never joined the family, dad. Then I wouldn't be under so much pressure to marry a man I know next to nothing about. I mean, he'll be immortal, so why couldn't he wait another generation for the next Avatar of Isis to appear?"

"That is bordering on blasphemy, young lady," Theo scolded her. "It's that boy, isn't it, the one the media is calling Wonder Boy."

"Bobby's nice – he . . . he makes me wish I had more time to just, you know, be a teenager."

Sighing, the man knelt next to her, stressing, "I joined this family for the sole purpose of resurrecting Teth-Adam. With Doctor Gottfried's research we are one step closer, but if you want me to I'll slow the project down, let you go to college and figure things out for yourself."

Biting her lip the young woman considered the tempting offer, but weighed it against the current state of the world. "No, the world needs a strong leader now more than ever. Maybe Adam will understand."

"I'm sure he will. With the Wisdom of Zehuti I'm sure that he'll understand, Mary. Now, Nora wants some help with the pie she's backing, so why don't you run along," he comforted.

"Yes, daddy," she replied, getting up and giving him a kiss on the cheek in passing.

Nora Bromfield stepped into Gottfried Manor and greeted her host, Samantha Barnes. Samantha was a lovely woman with long dark brown hair and hazel eyes, with a slightly pale complexion from living under the smog of Gotham. There was still something wholesome about the young woman that was endearing even upon first meetings.

"You must be Mary's mom," the woman enthused. "I'm Samantha, Robert's mom. Please, come in."

"Mary and I baked this," Nora said, offering up the strawberry-rhubarb pie.

"Um, it smells delicious," Samantha commented. "We're gathering in the ball room, if you'll follow me."

Not much had changed since she'd last visited, when Eugene Gottfried had returned from his last job. "So, you plan to turn the place into a bed and breakfast?" she wondered aloud.

"Well, it's sort of a dream of Nathan's – he's always wanted his own hotel. I just had to get out of Gotham," Samantha explained.

They entered the ballroom where a selection of sofas and chairs had been moved from other places in the house to make an informal sitting area. Finger foods and desserts were set up on a table. It was all self service – there were no waiters with serving trays – there was also no alcohol, much to Theo's displeasure.

A young man stepped up and introduced himself. "Mrs. Bromfield, Mr. Bromfield, I'm Robert Trevor. My friends call me Bobby."

"Bobby," Nora exclaimed, shaking the boy's hand. "Mary has been telling us wonderful tings about you."

"Robert," The responded as he shook the boy's hand.

"Theo," Nora chided, "He's invited us to be his friend."

"He's my daughter's boyfriend; I'm supposed to be unfriendly and judgmental," the man replied, smiling warmly to let everyone in on the joke. "Don't worry, young man, so long as you respect my daughter we won't have any problems."

Robert was a handsome boy in that understated boy-next-door kind of way, with just a flare of ruggedness. Nora could see why Mary was so crazy about the boy, even before he'd snapped on his great-great uncle's crowning achievement. The boy wore a button-up shirt and a dressy sweater that served to make him look studious and non-threatening, and also served to hide the bracer on his left arm.

"So, Mary says that you're going to be coaching Tennis?" she prompted.

"Well, with the reflexes of an Olympic athlete I can't exactly compete on the same level as the other kids, "Bobby agreed. "Coaching is about the only thing I can do to help the team."

"That is a very positive attitude, Bobby," Nora complimented. "What other extracurricular are you planning this year?"

"Photography for one – I'll be working with the school newspaper," he answered. "What I need is a sport elective for the Police Academy."

"You want to become a police officer?" the woman inquired.

He nodded, explaining, "My dad was a Detective with the Gotham City Police Department, he was my hero growing up."

Bobby ended his statement with a shrug, but Nora had to wonder what kind of man the late Detective Trevor had been – there were plenty of stories about how corrupt the Gotham City Police were, but they couldn't all be dirty. She decided to give the boy's father the benefit of the doubt. As one of the good guys she could understand why Bobby would want to be like his father.

"A Detective, that's a lofty goal. What are your plans for college?" Nora inquired.

"Law Enforcement, Criminology, Investigation," he numbered off. "I'll probably do ROTC while I'm in college – that's what Commissioner Gordon suggested."

Gordon, she'd heard about him, one of the good guys, but he was best known for condoning vigilantes in Gotham. Batman and Robin, Bat-Girl and Spoiler, The Question and Huntress. If the city hadn't been filled with lunatics, crime families and corrupt cops, the streets would have been cleaned up years ago. Bobby seemed like one of the good guys, but it was hard to tell with teenagers.

"Well, Mary speaks very highly of you," she announced. "I'm sure that you'll do great things no matter what career you choose."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bromfield. So, Mary, you up for a Tennis match?" he asked, clearly wanting to get away from the gathered adults.

"Go on, Mary," Nora laughed.

As the teens headed out the back Nora turned to see who else was in attendance. The Chief of Police was there with his wife and pre-teen son, the Mayor and his family were there with Vincent in tow. Vincent was an over-privileged, under-disciplined delinquent, too self absorbed to understand how he was ruining his own life. It didn't help that the school board treated him like a prince. She didn't blame Mary for wanting nothing to do with the boy.

Most of the teenagers followed the pair out with just a few remaining, either with their parents or in their own social groups, leaving the adults to their own devices. The hostess was mostly occupied with the Zoning Clerk, explaining the plans she had for the Bed and Breakfast, while Mr. Barnes seemed to be occupying herself with the school staff who were on hand. With Theo at her side,, Nora occupied herself moving from one group to the next, making the most of the social outing.

Tuesday marked the first day of the new school year, and Bobby dressed with special care, like every other teenager. He wore blue slacks, a white dress shirt with a red tie and a blue tie tack with a white star. Bobby had bought the tie and tack for his dad's birthday, but Joshua Trevor had died before the birthday party. The son wore them as a reminder of better times.

He threw his camera in his bag along with his notebook, and then danced through the kitchen, grabbing some food off the table on his way to the bus stop. It was two miles to the end of the drive, so Bobby took a bicycle and chained it to the shelter that had been built at the T-section. He caught the bus coming back from the outlying communities and wedged himself into a seat with two other people.

"I thought kids on this street had cars, and drivers," one of his bus-mates joked.

"My driver had a little too much to drink last night," Bobby countered, "Your mom throws a hell of a party."

"Owned," another kid called out as those listening in laughed.

Before any more off color comments could be made, Bobby held out his hand, "Robert Trevor: my friends call my Bobby."

"Eddy Carson," the bus-mate responded, shaking the offered hand. "So why are you riding the bus?"

"My mom just inherited her great-uncle's place and left her enough money to pay the inheritance fee. She and my stepdad are going to turn it into a Bed and Breakfast. Which means no car or driver for me," he explained.

"I guess that's cool," Eddy responded.

When they reached the school Bobby made a stop at his locker and put his camera up before heading to his first class. His grades had slipped from B+ to C- over the past two years, but he meant to remedy that, sitting front and center he pulled out his notebook and started copying down the list of rules on the whiteboard.

The teacher came in and commented, "You know, we're going to go over those point for point in just a couple minutes."

"I know, sir, but I always remember things better if I write them down," Bobby replied.

"Fair enough," the man intoned as he placed his briefcase on the desk. When the bell rang the teacher called out, "Good morning class and welcome to Junior English. I am Mr. Pruitt, and baring mental breakdown, grievous injury or pregnancy, I'll be your teacher for this year." Some of the students were relaxed enough to laugh, the rest laughed so that they weren't singled out. "Now, we are going to do a quick roll call and then go over the classroom rules."

Pulling a clipboard out of his briefcase, the man called out, "Robert Barnes, raise your hand."

Bubby kept his hand down, his fists clenched in anger.

"Robert Barnes? Do we have a Robert Barnes?"

"It's Trevor, sir," Bobby corrected. "My stepdad's name is Barnes but I refused to change my last name. My friend's call me Bobby."

Making a correction, the man called out, "Bobby Trevor?"

"Here, sir," he raised his hand.

The man continued down the list, ticking off names as he went. Once that was done they went over the classroom rules. It was the basic 3 – no talking unless you're invited to answer a question, no projectiles (i.e.: spit wads, paperclips, firearms), and no sexual or racial comments in class. Bobby took notes, not because he needed to remember but rather to set the precedent for himself. He did this in all of his next classes.

It wasn't until lunch that he started to hear the whispers as he walked down the hall.

"That's Wonder Boy?"

"He looked cooler in the videos."

"They say he was super-strength, I wonder how much he can lift?"

"He looks like a geek."

"If I had superpowers I wouldn't bother with school."

Entering the cafeteria Bobby spotted Mary sitting with a group of her friends. He loaded down his tray and headed over. "Hey, Mary, is there room for one more?"

"There's room for you," she answered, sliding over.

He put his tray down and looked up for a second, catching sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Bobby knew the face, that of his best friend in grade school, but he'd never expected to see Tim Drake outside of press photos and charity events. "Hey, is there room for one more – I think I just saw an old friend."

"Sure," Mary promised, looking curiously in the same direction.

Bobby jogged over to the young man who so resembled his old friend, calling out, "Tim, Tim Drake, hey, over here."

He saw the teen stiffen at the sound of the name, but rather than respond as Bobby expected the other boy turned and said, "Do I know you?"

"I'm Bobby Trevor, we used to go to school together in Gotham," Bobby replied, the hurt he felt coming out in his voice.

"Sorry, I don't know you. My name is Alvin, Alvin Draper."

Pausing for only a moment Bobby told the boy, "You're lying, Tim, what's wrong?"

"I told you, my name's not 'Tim', now leave me alone before I catch your crazy," the boy responded, walking towards the table where Vincent Harper sat with his jock cohorts.

Returning to Mary's table, Bobby sat down feeling confused and angry.

"Some friend," Mary tried to comfort him.

"Ah, he just looks like someone I knew back in Gotham – my best friend from elementary school. Tim and I used to beat up bullies together," Bobby remarked smiling at the memories.

"What happened to Tim?" Mary asked.

"His mom died, and his dad got deep with a debt collector, started working with lowlifes to keep from getting kneecapped. Ending up running with Two-Face's crew until the coin flipped the wrong way and Tim was orphaned. He dropped out of school, started hanging out with the kinds of people we used to beat up, stealing car tires and living wild," Bobby answered. "My dad helped him out of a few jams, but he didn't want to move in with us no matter how much I begged."

"And you thought that kid was Tim?" Mary wondered.

"Yea, just a case of mistaken identity," Bobby responded. Only he wasn't so sure. What kind of kid went by the name 'Alvin' if he wasn't a chipmunk? They'd say their name was 'Al' or 'Vinnie'.

Putting the thought aside, Bobby started up a conversation with his table-mates, most of whom were girls, about classes and other school-age concerns.

After lunch came gym class. Dressed down to shorts and a t-shirt, Bobby stepped out onto the football field where the Gym Coach was also the Football Coach, so it was only natural that they were playing flag football for their first class. Both the Varsity and Junior Varsity captains were in the class, so they became the captains for the two teams, dividing up the class in a way that could have only been premeditated.

On one side of the scrimmage line was a group of jocks and cheerleaders, on the other were geeks and social rejects. Bobby found himself lumped in with the rejects, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. Unfortunately, Vincent Harper seemed to be using the opportunity to express his dislike for anyone who tried to make time with 'his girl'. On the first play Bobby found himself without an effective screen, but rather than going for the flags Vincent put a shoulder in Bobby's stomach and drilled him into the ground.

Bobby coughed, and felt the device inside the bracer start to work. They stopped as soon as they started, and the young man climbed to his feet feeling fine.

"You alright, Trevor?" the coach called out, his whistle half raised.

"Yes, sir," Bobby called out. "That felt like a love tap, Harper. Are you trying to tell me something?"

Vincent turned red, and on the next play came after Bobby again. This time Bobby was able to get rid of the ball before he was bowled to the ground, and the surprised looking geek started running, out pacing the other boys either by talent or experience, making a touchdown.

"Six points to the Geeks, Vinnie," Bobby remarked. "If you keep coming after me you're going to lose what little respect you've got."

"Fuck you, Trevor," the older teen spat.

"Mind your language," Bobby said, getting up, "swear words are a sign of a limited intelligence."

This served to infuriate the jock even more, and the next half an hour played out like the first ten minutes – with the Jocks losing to the Geeks 7 to 24. As they headed towards the showers Bobby heard the Coach remark, "It's too bad he doesn't have a secret identity – the kid could make a killing on the field."

Of course, that was what Bobby and the School Board were afraid would happen if he played sports. There had been times he could have tossed Vincent across the field, or thrown the ball with enough force to break ribs. It had taken a conscious effort to keep the bracer from activating, and a constant temptation not to just throw the ball, run to the other end of the field, and catch it on the same play.

Showering quickly, Bobby headed to his last class, which was also the only class he shared with Mary, who was a Sophomore – Home Economics. The class had only just started when he was called to the Guidance Counselor's Office. Grabbing his books he went with a sense of foreboding that the summons had something to do with the shackle.

"Hello, Robert, I'm Sophie Mitchell," the pleasant woman said, holding out her hand.

"Robert Trevor," the boy said as he shook her hand. "My friend's call me Bobby."

She cringed, and responded, "I really wish that I could be your friend, Robert, but I don't think you're going to like me after this first meeting."

'First meeting', the boy wondered, 'which means that there will be a second meeting, and probably more.'

"Due to the . . . uniqueness of your situation, I've been court ordered to provide you with counseling. As the only psychologist in the county it falls on me to do this," the woman explained. "Since this is court appointed I cannot provide Doctor/Patient Confidentiality – a record of our sessions will be available to the City Council, the Chief of Police, and various Federal Agencies. While I can't force you to be her or answer my questions, your unwillingness will have to go into the permanent record. Knowing all of this, are you willing to talk with me?"

"Sure," Bobby responded, taking a seat. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Well, let's start with your relationship with parents? I understand that your dad died a few years ago and you don't get along well with the man your mother married?"

The 'First Session' lasted the entire period, and half an hour after the final bell. Bobby went back to his locker and traded out his notebook for his camera, heading over to the school library where the Newspaper Club was meeting. He walked into what resembled a kicked bee hive.

"Are you my new photographer?" a frantic looking Senior asked.

"That's me," Bobby responded. "Robert Trevor, but my friends call me . . ."

"Good, good, look, I need you to go with Cynthia Jenkins – she's going out to the Gottfried place to interview Wonder Boy," the Student Editor ordered. Turning to another group of people, he demanded, "Is the video linked to the website yet?"

"Yea, yea, the website's good to go," Eddy Carson shot back. "And Bobby lives at the Gottfried place."

The senior was back in Bobby's face so fast that Bobby wondered if he wasn't related to the Flash. "Is that true? Do you know Wonder Boy? Are you Wonder Boy?"

"Geez, back off," Bobby pushed the older boy away. He rolled down his sleeve to reveal the shackle. "Good enough?"

"Whoa, really?" Eddy gasped. "I figured you were his brother or something. If you can fly then you did you bother with the bus?"

Sighing, Bobby responded, "Because the bracer hasn't fully powered up since the day of the mall robbery. No flights, no tights."

"Okay, okay, so we can't have you photographing yourself and the rest of the monkeys wouldn't know one end of a camera from another. "I need the clearest still we can get from the videos," he roared, turning back towards Eddy. "Cynthia, you aren't going to get your byline by filing your nails! You, Richard, go talk to my sister, and try not to stare at her boobs when I can see."

"Robert," Bobby corrected, going over to the desk where another Senior was checking her makeup. She was a beauty queen, most likely to be voted Prom Queen, and she was showing off enough cleavage to be classified a national wonder, but it turned out that these things were just window dressing.

"So, let's cut to it," she remarked, pulling out a recording device. "Why did you become Wonder Boy?"

"I didn't 'become' Wonder Boy," he shot back. Holding up his arm he explained, "I found this while exploring the library at the Gottfried Estate. It is the last in a long line of devices designed to magically empower a normal person. While tracing the lines of the script on the inside of the sleeve I put my arm through it, activating the bracer's first power – it sized itself to my arm, making it impossible to remove."

"So you knew the bracer would give you superpowers?"

"No, I didn't get that far in Uncle Gene's notebook – I was tired and he had really bad handwriting," Bobby responded. "It wasn't until the next day, at the mall, when that gunman . . ."

"John Sinclair?"

"Yea, I guess, I didn't really catch his name when he pushed me over the third story rail," he continued. "Falling heels over head towards the first floor I had one of those 'life flashing before your eyes' moments, only my life kept going. The bracer activated and that's when I knew that it gave me superpowers."

"Okay, so you put it on thinking it was cool looking and didn't know about the superpowers until the next day," Cynthia summed it up. "I've seen all the videos and know that there's more to the bracer than flight. What else does it do?"

"Super-strength and super-toughness," Bobby offered. "When Sinclair injected himself with whatever gave him super-strength he dropped the baby and I jumped in to catch her."

"You flew to the rescue?" she chided, smirking.

"I leapt to the rescue and glided past the mall cops," he corrected. "Wonder Woman leapt in to confront Sinclair, but got sucker-punched – she wasn't aware of the strength drug. Sinclair leapt after her and I tackled him over the third floor rail."

"Sounds like turnabout was fair play," the reporter quipped.

"I was just trying to give Wonder Woman time to recover. Anyway, when I hit the ground I barely felt the impact, that's why I think that super-toughness is a power that the shackle gives me," he answered. "John Sinclair came after me and I tossed him into a sporting goods store. When flying in after him he swung a bat at me and the aluminum folded when I blocked the swing with my bracer. I responded by punching him into a set of weightlifting equipment – which was why I think that super-strength is another power it gives me."

"You describe your talisman as a shackle," she pointed out. "Why do you think of it that way?"

"For one thing, it doesn't come off," he offered.

"And what about the other things? 'One thing' is usually followed by another."

Bobby realized he was being manipulated – the girl was trusting that he'd be too busy looking at her bosom to realize it. Frowning, he considered lying, but he'd been raised to believe that the truth was better than any lie. "Since this thing was stuck to my arm I've had nothing but grief from it. From my parents, from the Chief of Police, from the School Board and the City Council," he enumerated. "I just got done with a court-ordered psychological evaluation where I was told that multiple Federal agencies were keeping tabs on me. The Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Department of Homeland Security, the Central Intelligence Agency, the Department of Extranormal Operations, and Child Welfare Services, are all getting copies of my meetings with a psychiatrist who admits to hate having to railroad me like this."

He ticked them off on his fingers, continuing, "I've been banned from participating in sports because even powered down the bracer gives me the speed and reflexes of an Olympic-level athlete. The last week I haven't spent more than 5 hours a night, waking up feeling like I'd just drunk a six-pack of energy drinks. People expect me to be different things:"

Ranting, Bobby went on, "Adults expect me to be a juvenile delinquent, kids my age expect me to be 'so cool', and people in authority expect me to answer to them on every little thing. All I want is to be a normal teenager, attend my classes, play sports, date. The biggest worry I should have right now is getting my act together for college!"

"So, you resent the stereotypes that have been placed on you?" Cynthia responded, scribbling something down. "If you didn't have these powers what kind of future would you be working towards?"

"The same future I'm working towards now – graduate high school, go to college, join the police force and become a Detective, like my dad, Joshua Trevor," he answered.

"Your living with a stepdad now, is that right? How did that happen?"

"My dad died in the line of duty, investigating an organized crime ring in Gotham. For a while my mom was a wreck, but then she started to get her act together and met Nathan Barnes. He was an old school friend, and as they got talking they realized that they had a lot in common – more than they did back in High School. They fell in love and got married."

"You didn't change your name, though?" she mused.

"I like being a Trevor, I loved my granddad's stories, even when I thought he was crazy. Steve Trevor was an Intelligence Operative during World War II, he was responsible for breaking the German's encryption and warning the Allies about the invasion attempt. I never believed his stories about meeting Wonder Woman – his 'Angel', he called her – until Princess Diana confirmed that she knew him," Bobby said, smiling at the memories.

"How did that topic come up?" the reporter wondered.

"I introduced myself as 'Robert Steven Trevor', and when she picked up on my middle and last names I asked if she was my grandfather's 'Angel'. Her blush was pretty much all the conformation I needed," the boy laughed.

"So, the name 'Trevor' stands for a long line of men who were heroes in their own right. A brace Intelligence Agent, an Incorruptible Detective, and a teenage boy trying to make something as noble out of his life – especially if that something isn't a tights wearing superhero."

"My dad always said that if more people stood up for each other we wouldn't need caped-crusaders or underwear-on-the-outside superheroes," Bobby offered.

"Huh, well, I was going to write you off as a thrill-seeking attention hog," Cynthia quipped, "but there is actually something interesting about you, Robert Trevor."

"My friends call me Bobby."

Smiling, the reporter answered, "Bobby then; welcome to West Brook."

Sam Barnes wondered at all the things that her uncle's money had bought as she walked through the halls of the new High School. Compared to Robert's last school in Gotham, the Eugene Gottfried High School was like stepping into the future. It was Friday, and she'd been invited to speak with the school psychologist concerning her son. Robert was taking photographs of the Football Team's away game, so it was just Sam and Nathan.

"Mister and Misses Barnes?" the psychologist inquired. "I'm Sophie Mitchell, the school's lead counselor. Please, come in and have a seat."

"Is Robert in trouble," Nathan asked as they sat.

"No, but it is curious that you jump to the worst conclusion, Mr. Barnes. May I call you Nathan?" At his nod she turned to Sam and asked, "Samantha?"

Sam nodded, and asked, "How is Robert doing?"

"So far I've heard nothing but good things from his teachers," Sophie responded. "All except Coach Walsh – he's furious that Robert can't play on the team. Otherwise he's aced just about every test that he's been given. No, he's not in any trouble academically, however there were a few things that came up in our session on Tuesday that raised some red flags."

"Like what?" Nathan asked, leaning forward.

"Well, like your constant insistence that you don't want to be his friend, Nathan," the woman pointed out.

"What? I've never told Robert that I don't want to be his friend," her husband sputtered.

"Sophie shook her head and sighed, "Mr. Barnes, when Robert first entered this office he introduced himself as 'Robert Trevor', but then went on to say that his friends called him 'Bobby'. When you first met did he say something similar?"

"Well, yes he did," Nathan mused.

"What Robert was really saying was 'My name is Bobby, please be my friend," was the explanation. "What was your response?"

Nathan frowned, the way he did when he was remembering something. "I told him that I was very glad to meet him."

"And the name you used?"

"Robert," Nathan responded, "But I never meant to say that I didn't want to be his friend."

"Nathan, I understand that you have no experience raising children, let alone a teenage boy who has suffered the loss of his father. In Robert's world you have continually denied him the level of support he needs. That's why he doesn't listen to you, because to him you are nothing more than a Paternal Authority Figure," Sophie stressed. "Try associating with him on his terms and I'm sure that he will open up to you."

Curious, Sam asked, "What about me? What has he said about me?"

"That he's glad you're 'back' from that dark place you went after your first husband's death," the psychologist answered. "I've only begun to scratch the surface with Robert, but I can tell that he loves you very much, and loves you Nathan, for what you've done to bring his mom back."

Sam sighed in relief. Of course, she knew that Robert loved her, but it was nice to have conformation of that.

"I'm also curious about Robert's refusal to use his powers," Sophie commented. "My college thesis was on the psychology of superheroes. From my research I know that most heroes are either thrill-seeking adventurers or grudge-carrying vigilantes."

"Which one is Robert . . . Bobby," Nathan asked.

"Neither," the woman responded, looking surprised, "Again, you jump to the worst conclusion."

As Nathan blushed, the psychiatrist went on, "Grudge-carrying vigilantes are usually defined by the tragedy that set them on their path as a hero – the death of a loved one is most common. Thrill-seekers become heroes as soon as they find out they have powers – they are usually irresponsible and reckless during their first outings. Neither type describes your son. The only hero I can compare Robert to is Superman."

That came as a surprise to Sam, so she asked, "Why?"

"Before Superman was Superman he spent years pretending to be a normal human, getting to know the people and understanding what kind of hero he wanted to be. Like Robert, he's mask-less, everyone knows that he's Kal-El of Krypton and makes his home somewhere near the North Pole. He's a reluctant hero who chooses to work with the system – he's employed as a Police Deputy in Metropolis, turns criminals over for prosecution, and answers summons from the courts to act as a witness. While Robert refuses to act in any way the hero, I doubt that he'd be much different," the woman explained.

Sophie went on, "While I hope that Robert never has to use his powers I am hoping that you two will be supportive if he does take up a life of crime fighting."

Nathan frowned and muttered, "I don't like superheroes."

"That's an interesting statement, Nathan," Sophie noted. "Could you elaborate?"

Sighing, the man quoted, "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." He went on, "Power doesn't always corrupt the wielder – Superman as you pointed out is neither a thrill-seeker nor grudge-carrier – but you don't have to have the power to become reliant on it. Back in Gotham I saw people who would cheerfully walk down the street at night when the Bat-Signal was on, but wouldn't walk down that same street when the signal was off. In Metropolis whenever something bad happens the people look to the skies before they look for a police officer. Even though I haven't been there I'm sure that it's the same in Star City, Faucett City, and anywhere else heroes call home. When we got back from the mall the first thing that Chief Brown wanted to do was make Robert a Junior Deputy – if Bobby had allowed it then I'm sure that it wouldn't have been long before 'Wonder Boy' was the city's answer to just about everything."

"And that is why you are the perfect father figure for Robert right now," the psychiatrist enthused, "Because you can give him that kind of counsel. Just remember that you need to connect with him as a friend before he'll be willing to listen to you as his father."

"Bobby," Nathan said to himself. "His name is Bobby."

Homecoming was an annual ritual dating back God knew how long. For the students of the Eugene Gottfried High School homecoming was the first big dance that they would have at their new school. Committees were assembled, posters went up, pep rallies were had, and 'School Pride' resulted in a series of pranks played on and by the rival school in East Brook. The day of the game the football players were strutting around like they ruled all that they saw.

Bobby had no prayer of walking small through the halls of the school, and was often the target of spit wads and trips. As a photographer, Bobby went to every away game, often traveling on the same bus as the jocks, so some of them had stopped their constant barrage of harassment, while others – Vincent's friends and sycophants – continued the ordeal. The Principal and most of the staff were too afraid of Vincent to stop it, so Bobby suffered in silence.

The day of the big game and atmosphere was electric. Some of the students were wearing 'war paint' in the school colors of green and purple, and one girl was sent home for wearing nothing but paint made to look like a jersey. Other less extreme examples of school pride included wearing the school colors.

After school most people hung around and watched the football players warmed up and the refreshment committee set up the school store under the bleachers. Bobby spent the game on the sidelines, taking shots of the action, the cheerleaders, and the crowd, while Cynthia Jenkins made remarks into her recorder about the brutality of the game. The West Brook Razorbacks won 32 to 3 against the East Brook Wild Cats, which was a total turn around since East Brook normally dominated at sports.

When the final whistle blew there was the typical rowdy free for all, and Bobby passed his camera off to Cynthia. Before he could get off the field he was knocked to the ground by Vincent, and piled on by the Varsity Captain's posse. No worse for wear, Bobby went home to change out of his grass stained shirt, returning to find that the party was in full swing.

He was walking towards the gym when thick hands reached out and grabbed him, dragging him to a shadowy corner under the bleachers where Vincent Harper was waiting.

"I bet you think you're smart, huh, Trevor," the older teen growled. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us because of that stupid piece of jewelry you're wearing. "Well, you know what – I think it's time you learned what your place is in this town."

Vincent swung hard, catching Bobby in the stomach while a pair of goons held the younger teen's arms. Bobby let all his breath out in a gasp, coughing hard and nearly vomiting, but he raised his head to stare defiantly at his schoolyard rival.

"You think," Bobby coughed, "That this is going to impress Mary?"

Swinging again, Vincent caught Bobby on the side of the head, and the boy saw stars.

"When you come crawling along, broken and bleeding, and blame me for beating you up, I'll have a dozen friends swearing that I was at the dance the whole time," Vincent laughed. "Your word against mine, Wonder Boy; who do you think this town will believe?"

A kick came next, catching Bobby between the thighs. Bobby groaned, and then started laughing.

"What, what's so funny, Blunder Boy?" Vincent demanded.

"You've . . . you've never fought a day in your life, have you," Bobby laughed. "All you've ever had to do was growl and threaten, and people rolled over for you. Just how pathetic are you, Vinnie?"

"Fuck it, I'm going to fuck you up so bad that Mary is never going to want to look at you," the jock cursed, pulling a vial out of his pocket.

"Vincent, damn, don't," the goons gasped.

Ignoring them, Vincent put the tube to his lips and tilted his head back, the light illuminating the liquid inside a strange blue color that Bobby recognized with a thrill of dread. The last time he'd seen that shade of blue had been in Uncle Gene's hidden lab, and Etrigon had identified it as 'Toxin', the same stuff that the gunman had juiced up on in the mall. He had no idea how the dose Vincent had just taken compared to what the gunman, John Sinclair, had taken, but Bobby felt the bracer activate in response to the threat.

"Whoa, what's that," the goon holding Bobby's left arm asked.

"Nothing good," Bobby explained before tossing the boy towards Vincent.

Rather than catching his friend, Vincent batted the boy aside, lunging after Bobby, who shook off the other boy and kicked into the air. In response Vincent jumped, rebounded off the bleachers, and came after Bobby who was too surprised by the maneuver to block the punch. Spinning through the air, Bobby hit the ground and slid a good ten feet before he recovered.

Getting up, Bobby saw his rival coming after him at a speed that was beyond human, and moved to counter, grabbing the other teen and striking at the inner thigh. Vincent hopped away, fell and climbed back to his feet, limping just a little.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" Vincent demanded. "I barely felt that!"

The older teen came back, more controlled this time, and started using boxing moves with a few mixed kicks thrown in. Bobby had never been one for martial arts – his style was what he'd picked up fighting kids half again his height and twice his weight. Trips, throws, submission holds and pressure points. Put on the defense, Bobby gave ground until he found an opening. He tried a grappling move only to realize that Vincent had been on the Wrestling Team, too.

Using height to his advantage, Vincent picked Bobby off his feet and started running for the gym wall. Struggling to get free, Bobby used the difference in height from the sidewalk to the flowerbed to his advantage, catching his footing and pulling Vincent into a roll. Using the momentum he flipped himself around and slammed Vincent into the wall upside down.

Both boys hit the ground, and got up around the same time. Vincent pinned Bobby against the wall and started throwing a barrage of punches that the young teen couldn't recover from quickly enough to counter, so he focused on dodging. The older teen's punches put holes through the cinderblocks, but Bobby could see signs that Vincent was running out of Toxin.

Catching the older teen around the waist, Bobby lifted him into a pile-driver, and used the other teen's head as a battering ram against the wall. The wall, weakened by Vincent's punches, gave way, and the two teens fell into the gym where the party had ground to a screeching halt. In the tumble Bobby lost his hold on his rival, but was back on his feet first.

"Stop this now, Vincent," Bobby cautioned, "That Toxin you took has to be running its course. Besides, your carefully prepared alibi is ruined."

"Go to hell, Wonder Boy," Vincent spat, running over to a three tiered bleacher where the school's wallflowers were sitting. Lifting it easily, with some people still on it, the older teen threw it at Bobby, who flew forward to catch it, setting it down.

Vincent had moved to a table of condiments and punchbowls, and chucked that too. With no peers in danger, Bobby slapped that down and moved forward quickly, catching the older teen before he could reach a group of startled students and faculty members. Grabbing the other boy up, Bobby put him in the best submission hold he could and then lifted them both into the air.

"Someone call 911," Bobby shouted to the crowd. "Harper is going to need medical assistance when the Toxin wears off."

The roars of anger turned to frantic cries, and then screams of pain as the drug ran its course. Bobby landed and let Vincent go, only to have the jock turn on him in an attempt to continue the fight. All the boy's punches landed with less than super-strength, and Bobby let Vincent struggle until all the strength was gone from the jock.

Vincent fell to the ground, still cursing between agonized screams. Bobby stayed close as the withdrawal symptoms became more severe. The paramedics arrived along with the police and the fire department, Chief Brown leading the way.

After helping the paramedics load the still thrashing Vincent onto the gurney Bobby followed his father's old partner over to the side to give his report. Instead, the Chief pulled out a packet of papers and said, "Sign."

He recognized the Junior Deputy letter, he'd seen his dad working out the working of the instructions as a kid. "With all due respect, sir, this was an isolated incident."

"No, Bobby, this is a problem. I saw the damage your little tussle did to the lawn outside, and that whole in the wall, not to mention the personal injury lawsuits," Eli pointed out. "Do you have any idea who much that's going to put your parents back? They are going to have to sell the house and move back to Gotham – goodbye dreams, goodbye life and goodbye college. Sign and the city will pay for the damages."

"This is coercion," Bobby noted as he flipped to the last page, pausing only when he saw that it had already been countersigned by his mom. He gave a small laugh before filling in his name and signing.

Eli produced a badge and whispered, "Clip this to your belt and pretend it's always been there the whole time."


	3. Forced

Disclaimer: This story is set in the DC Animated Universe, and certain characters are copyrights of DC Comics. These characters are used without the consent of DC, but no money is being generated from the posting of this story. However, some of these characters are the intellectual property of the author, so please don't steal them . . . or I'll sue ya! -LeoN

Wonder Boy: Part I – Reluctant

Chapter Three: Forced

When Eli Brown had left Gotham City to become the Chief of the Police Department in a small town he'd thought he was finally done with costumed vigilantes and crazy villains. He'd moved to West Brook, New York figuring that it was a quiet, safe place to raise his son and maybe have a few more kids. That had been before he'd learned that Eugene Gottfried was an actual mad scientist and that Eli's Godson, Robert Trevor, was now sporting the culmination of the old man's life's work.

For the past month Eli had been living in fear that Robert, Bobby to his friends, would end up having to use his powers to get himself out of a situation of his own making. Even in his wildest dreams though, he wouldn't have believed that Robert would have gotten into a super-powered smack down with the Mayor's egotistical son. Having been briefed on the effects of the super-performance enhancer Toxin it was still another thing entirely to see the aftermath.

The drug enhanced the strength, speed and stamina of the user, and created a protective mesh over the user's skin as it was excreted through the sweat glands. As the drug broke down in the body it consumed the body's natural painkillers as it crystallized in the person's muscles and joints, making every moment hurt. In order to get rid of the drug the body tried to sweat it out, but that caused its own problems as dehydration was the usual cause of death with an overdose. Taken sparingly over the course of a battle a person could remain super-powered for a long period of time, the additional doses working to flush out the used chemicals.

From Robert's report the other teen had downed enough to keep him strong for an hour, but he'd done it in one gulp. After just five minutes Vincent Harper had started going through withdrawal, but in that time he'd torn up the lawn between the football field and the gym and done most of the damage to the wall that had resulted in a large hole. The fight had spilled into the gymnasium where it had concluded with the entire student body watching, with some of the bystanders in physical danger.

Eli was already imagining the paperwork, and he was trying not to think about the Mayor's reaction to this – Vincent was the Mayor's son, and it was an election year.

"It was right around here, sir," Robert announced, playing his flashlight over a patch of ground under the bleachers.

Both Eli and another officer looked around as well, but they couldn't find the vial that Robert had reported. There was, however, a patch of grass that was discolored by something other than blood or vomit. "Get that sample, and cordon off this entire area," the Chief ordered.

"Bobby," a woman's voice called out from above, and the group looked up to see Wonder Woman wearing her dramatically revealing outfit, "What happened here?"

"High school bully downed Toxin when he couldn't beat me into groveling at his feet," Robert responded.

Wonder Woman was joined by a man wearing a blue outfit with yellow boots, gloves and cape, capped by a gold helmet. The woman introduced him, "This is Doctor Fate, the greatest magic user on Earth. Doctor Fate, this is Elisha Brown, the Chief of Police, and I told you about Robert."

Stepping forward, Robert held out his hand and offered, "My friends call me Bobby."

"So I am told," the man nodded. "You have a most curious fate, young man, but telling fortunes is not the reason I came. May I see your bracer?"

"Of course," Robert responded, holding up his left arm where a gold-hued metal sleeve covered his arm from wrist to elbow.

"Yes, I see, Thanagarian runes, Doctor Gottfried no slouch when it came to his studies, and he would need the strongest containment spells to harness the powers of the elements," the mystic explained as he ran his hands around the talisman. "Three elementals, each imparting different gifts: Earth for strength and durability, Air for flight and focus, Fire for speed and recovery. An impressive array of abilities: truly deserving of a moniker such as 'Wonder Boy'."

"Can you take it off?" the young man asked.

"I cannot, not without disrupting the containment spells, and three powerful, not to mention angry, elementals could wreak all manner of havoc before I could bring them under control. It would be like unleashing an earthquake, forest fire and tornado in the same moment – you would be destroyed, as would anyone near you, and likely anyone within a 25 mile radius," Doctor Fate answered.

Hanging his head, the young man signed and let his arm drop. "So, what should I do now?"

"That is entirely up to you," Fate responded. "Your fate is your own to make, which is why I find you so curious; however, I would recommend that you at least explore the role of a hero."

"Thank you, Nabu," Wonder Woman told the other hero.

"As always, Princess, the pleasure was mine," he replied before spreading out his arms. The image of an anuk, the Egyptian symbol for 'fate' surrounded the man and took him with it as it faded away.

In his place another hero stepped out of the shadows. Eli had never had any dealing with the Dark Knight of Gotham, even when he'd been a Detective in the police department there, and he'd always scoffed at the claim that the man carried a general miasma of malice, but he felt like taking a step back as Batman joined the conversation.

"I've analyzed the chemical composite from the grass – the Harper boy is lucky to be alive," the Caped Crusader remarked. "Compared to the doses we've seen up to now that concoction was super-concentrated. If an effective delivery system were devised then it could be weaponized. Entire armies could be outfitted with Toxin enhancements."

"That is a truly frightening thought," Eli snorted. "Thank you for ruining my sleep for the next week."

Batman just looked around with those blank, white lenses under his cowl.

Wonder Woman pressed on, "How does it compare to the sample we took from Dr. Gottfried's lab?"

"Near identical, but not exactly the same," Batman answered. "Either someone is trying to improve on Gottfried's chemistry or they are trying to duplicate it."

"I want to know how Vincent got a hold of it," Robert cut in. "Dillon seemed to know what it was, but Troy had no clue – Vincent knew exactly what he had, but I don't think he was expecting the detox to be so bad."

"We'll know more when the Harper boy is fit to talk," Batman brooded. "In the meantime, I suggest that you get some training, Robert Trevor. This battle was sloppy, and you put a lot of innocent lives in danger."

Robert hung his head again, and Eli put in, "Robert's agreed to participate in the Junior Deputy Program, but I think that training with the Justice League would also be beneficial. What do you think, Robert?"

"Uh, yea, you're probably right, sir," the young man sighed, squaring his shoulders, "But I can't train every day of the week – I have homework and Journalism Club."

"Perhaps Saturdays," Wonder Woman suggested. "We're holding First Responder training for our Reserve Members tomorrow."

The boy perked up at the idea, and Eli could see his Godson fitting the training into his overall plan for his future. It was a plan that would see Robert Trevor following in his father's footsteps as a Police Detective, and maybe even beyond.

Bobby knew he was in for it when he saw that the lights in the front room were on. He'd known that his mom would be waiting up for him, but if she'd been alone then she'd be waiting in the kitchen, waiting to hear how Homecoming had gone. Nathan liked the front room, it was very formal and played to his preconceptions of what a father was supposed to be.

Opening the front door he looked around to find that his stepdad was awake and his mom snoozing on a couch.

"Yea, so, I've got some explaining to do," the young man commented as he sat down on the couch opposite his parents. Chief Brown had wanted all the facts before making comments, but Nathan argued every point.

Samantha was forced to shush her husband several times, so that it took 2 hours to tell the tale. He was tired as he finished, "So Chief Brown pulled me aside and told me to either 'badge up or pay out'."

"That's coercion," Nathan barked. "That's not legal."

"It is when I cosigned the application," his mother responded, drawing her husband's shocked expression. Sighing, Samantha explained, "I'm sorry, Robert, but I know what kind of person you are. We don't know enough about your powers, so it was really only a matter of time before you were forced to use your powers either in defense of yourself or others. I didn't tell you Nathan because I knew you would be against it, and I'm sorry but I won't let my son be branded a criminal."

Nathan opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it at his wife's expression.

Bobby got up and announced, "It's past midnight, and Wonder Woman invited me to attend some First Responder training in the morning. She came by with Doctor Fate – no go on getting this thing off, not without destroying everything within 25 miles and turning myself into a puff of red mist."

"Well, if you can't take it off then I think it best that you train with the Justice League. Get some sleep, and in the morning leave your homework in the kitchen so Nathan and I can check it," his mother remarked. "Good night, Robert."

"Good night, mom, night Nathan," Bobby answered as he headed up to his room. Since putting on the bracer he'd been averaging about 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night. Any more and he woke up feeling like he'd downed an entire jug of coffee and a bottle of energy pills. Waking up at 5 in the morning on the weekend was boring, and the only thing to do was homework.

With so much extra time to study Bobby was averaging A's in all his classes, but he had to wonder who working at the Police Department and weekends with the Justice League was going to affect his grades. Nathan would have something to say if the young man couldn't keep his grades up, but the young man would never intentionally do less than his best – it was against everything that his biological dad, Daniel Trevor, had taught him. Homework done, Bobby put on a pair of jeans, his favorite boots, and a t-shirt, pulling his old blue hoody from the back of the closet, figuring that he should do the 'superhero' thing right and wear the same kind of outfit he'd worn to the mall just a month earlier.

Laying his homework out in the kitchen – his parent's still weren't awake – he headed into the back yard and fitted the earpiece into his ear, tapping it once. "Wonder Boy awaiting transport," he announced, feeling foolish.

"Standby for teleportation," a resonate alien voice responded.

Having your atomic structure disassembled and reassembled in a different location was a singular sensation, with nothing to compare it to. Bobby's vision swam as he arrived in the lobby of the Justice League's Metro Tower, constructed after the Cadmus Incident in an attempt to open relations with the world governments. The teleportation pad was part of a balcony that looked out over the foyer where only a few people where moving around.

Bobby was glad that there were so few people – less witnesses as he dashed to a potted plant and vomited into the pot.

"Wow, I've never seen anybody respond THAT badly to their first teleport," a girl's voice announced.

Wiping his chin, Bobby looked up to see a girl wearing a blue and white long-sleeved bicycle top and knee-length bicycle shorts. Black combat boots with red laces, a clunk red belt, red gloves and a blue mask completed her costume, the top featuring a large white star on front and three more on each arm. She was also carrying a golden staff with a hook at the end like a knitting needle. He recognized her as Star Girl, one of the Justice League's junior members, and the resident super-heroine of Blue Valley, Massachusetts.

"Yea, sorry about that," Bobby apologized as he spat out the last of the vomit. "Is there some place I can clean up?"

"Yea, the boy's locker room is this way," she answered, leading the way. "I'm Courtney, by the way; Courtney Whitmore."

"Robert Trevor," he responded in his customary greeting, "But my friends call me Bobby."

"Nice to meet you, Bobby," she responded, smiling so that her braces could be seen. Besides the hardware she was a pretty girl, blond hair, blue eyes, nice figure, but he was starting to think that Mary was ready to go steady with him and didn't want to jinx himself.

Stepping into the locker room he noted that it looked a lot like the professional lockers at Gotham Stadium – the lockers themselves were more like small closets where heroes could store changes of street clothes and multiple sets of their costumes. Every member of the League had a locker, which meant that the room was huge. Finding a sink took longer than he thought, but after washing and gulping down some water Bobby left the locker room to find Star Girl waiting.

"Took you long enough," Courtney complained. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier – Wonder Woman asked me to show you around."

"Ah, I was wondering why you were up so early," he responded, noting that it was almost eight – about the time that any self-respecting teenager would be wishing the sun would go away.

"I know," the girl sighed. "Come on, I'll show you the cafeteria first – they should have the full spread set up, what with this being a training day."

"Wonder Woman said that all the reserve members would be training as First Responders," Bobby prompted.

Courtney nodded, lamenting, "It's a total drag. Most of us Reservists are second-tier heroes, or like you and me, still in school. When we're call out to assist the Active League members it's usually as crowd control or manning triage centers, so we have to know how to apply bandages and perform CPR."

Bobby laughed, and told the girl, "And you think that makes you less of a hero? Courtney, the rear-guard action is the most important. The media might focus on the flashy antics of those in the thick of battle, but for the people caught up in the mess it's the men and women who are treating injuries and reuniting families who are the most important. My dad once told me that he thought that Fire Fighters and Paramedics were the most amazing people, because they helped people in such a personal way. Most of the people he investigated on behalf of couldn't remember his face a week later."

"I guess," she shrugged, still not convinced.

The cafeteria, like the locker room, was large: designed to seat about 100 heroes and support staff, and serve ten times that number. At the moment there were about a dozen people either moving down the line or already seated. Courtney led the way, nitpicking her favorite things as they moved down the line. Bobby grabbed a light breakfast – cereal, toast, juice and milk – stuffing a couple cereal bars into the pouch on his sweater for later.

Other 'Reservists' were already seated, and Courtney made a bee-line for a trio of older teens. Roy Harper, no relation to Vincent Harper, was Green Arrow's former sidekick. He'd been sidelined to a reserve status after it was discovered that he'd been using drugs recreationally – the scandal had made front page headlines, but he'd been clean for a while now. Garth was an Atlantian, the nephew of Aquaman – King Arthur of Atlantis – and had joined the Justice League to better understand 'land dwellers'. Captain Marvel – he didn't give his real name – was older, in his early-twenties or there about – but he seemed more comfortable at the teen's table than with the other league members. Courtney sat down next to the power-house, smiling up at him and batting her baby-blues.

"Arsenal, Tempest, Cap, this is Wonder Boy," Courtney said as an introduction.

"My friends call me Bobby," he offered.

"It is very nice to finally meet you, Bobby," Captain Marvel responded, and the others followed suit. "There was a lot of debate on when, or even if, you would be joining us."

"Honest, I wish I weren't here," Bobby announced, holding up his bracer. "But Doc Fate says that this won't come off in a way that will make anyone happy, so I guess I'd better figure out how to use it."

"I do not understand your reluctance," Garth intoned. "From what I've been able to gather from other young heroes most prefer to be 'fighting the good fight' than sitting at home?"

Shaking his head, Bobby joked, "Personally, I'd rather the rolling out of bed to watch cartoons right now."

"Here, here," Courtney agreed, raising her glass of OJ in salute. "Still, there's no reason we couldn't be doing both if this First Responder Training hadn't been scheduled for so early in the morning. Fortunately I set the TV to record 'Captain Carrot and the Zoo Crew'."

She blushed after making that announcement.

Bobby realized that she'd based her costume off of Patriot Poodle. All she was missing were the inline skates.

Laughing with the others, Bobby admitted, "I'm more of an anime fan."

"I'm with you there," Roy agreed, reaching across the table to give Bobby a fist bump.

"I like Power Rangers," Cap admitted, taking the blush out of Courtney's cheeks as she realized that she wasn't the only one who watched kid's shows.

Talk of shows turned to music and sports teams and the kind of talk that new friends went over when getting to know each other. Bobby piecemealed his food as he relaxed.

Diana stepped into the cafeteria and looked around, spotting her young protégé sitting with a group of other young heroes. She approved of Captain Marvel and Tempest – both were excellent rolemodels – and she'd asked Star Girl to look after Robert while he was getting used to his role as a young hero. Arsenal was a different matter – the boy's past drug addiction was still a black mark on the League.

Stepping up to the group she commented, "I must say that you five look like a gathering of Titans."

Robert laughed and quipped, "Teenage Titans."

The others laughed at the remark, relaxing slightly in her presence.

Looking to her young charge, Diana requested, "Bobby, I'd like to show you something."

"Good luck, Bobby," Roy Harper replied as Robert got up and took his tray to the cleaning window.

What Diana wanted to show him was a costume that she'd worked out during the month that he'd been in denial. The bodysuit was primarily blue with a white star on the chest, the sleeves stopping just below the elbow, the cuffs designed to be tucked into the Power-Bracer on his left arm and a cosmetically identical Nth metal bracer that could be worn on the right arm. Red boots equipped with Nth metal greaves covered his legs from foot to knee.

"So, what do you think?" she asked proudly.

Her good humor slipped slightly at the uncomfortable look on Robert's face as he stepped forward and fingered the fabric. She explained, "Costumes are more than just flashy outfits, Bobby. They serve to instantly identify the wearer. Everyone knows who I am in costume, but if I were to stop a group of bank robbers in street clothes people wouldn't know who I am. Justice League costumes are made out of a special material that protects the wearer against fire and shrapnel."

Robert considered the costume, but she could tell that he was still less than thrilled. "Could I . . . get a utility belt?" he asked finally. "You know, to keep my Deputy's badge, handcuffs, and stuff like gas-pellets. I could use your symbol as a belt buckle, since most people associate me with you any way."

Beaming at the thought, Diana gave her protégé a hug and promised, "I'll have something put together in a few hours."

Taking the costume, Robert ducked into the men's locker room and emerged in his new costume, clipping the second bracer over his right arm. He looked good in blue, but he was right – the suit needed more color. A red utility belt would serve well for that.

"We'll work on establishing control over the activation of your bracer after training," she cheered.

The paramedics had set up a dozen or so gurneys with dummies designed to mimic different kinds of injuries. Most of it was treating broken bones, bleeding and shock, but there were also dummies that simulated internal injuries and impaled objects. It was a very extensive list, but Bobby was having so much fun that his new friends had to drag him away for lunch. Once in the cafeteria though, he settled down at the sight of the spread that the support staff had put together.

All League members were on call 24/7, but very few actually lived either at the Metro or Watch Towers. Most of the time they were going to college, holding down full time jobs, between serving the public in their hometowns and the surrounding areas. They would stay at either tower for a couple days each month, acting as the 'Active Team' in cells of five to seven members. When the situation required it multiple teams could be called up, or individual members brought together to form new teams if their special skills were needed.

Reservists were only called up on weekends – to allow the Active Members a break from hero duty – and in the worst case situations, like when the Watch Tower's particle laser had been fired and when Darkside had tried to invade the second time. During the summer months the younger Reserve members were placed on active teams so that they could get firsthand experience, like the time that Star Girl and Supergirl had gone to Japan to deal with the giant turtle.

"So, do you think that they'll team us up?" Bobby asked Courtney.

"Don't know," Courtney shrugged. "Probably not – I'm normally teamed with my stepdad, Pat, and you'll probably team up with Wonder Woman. Normally they don't allow two sets of partners on the same team."

"Why not?" the young man wondered.

Roy answered, quoting, "One teen is half an adult, two teens are half that. That's what Ol, er, Green Arrow always said when I suggested teaming up with Batman and Robin."

"Did you ever team up with them?" Courtney asked.

"No, but I have teamed up with Nightwing – the guy that used to be Robin," Arsenal told her.

"I'm surprised that the new Robin isn't here," the girl noted.

Captain Marvel put in, "From what I understand, Batman has him working undercover to figure out who's selling Toxin to small-town jocks. How is the Harper boy doing anyway, Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged, saying, "It only happened last night, but he was life-lifted to the hospital in East Brook – he'll have to go through blood dialysis until the Toxin crystals are gone. After that, Chief Brown said that he'll be charged with criminal negligence, among other things, and being 18 there's no chance that he'll be tried as a juvenile. He's in a lot of trouble."

"What was the fight over?" Garth inquired.

Rolling his eyes, Bobby explained, "Vincent thought that he owned the town and everyone in it. Anyone who didn't 'bow down to his greatness' was bullied into doing so, but I don't bow down to bullies, great or small. Since he couldn't intimidate me he tried to beat me into submission, and when his usually tactics didn't work he dosed himself with Toxin."

"What an idiot," Courtney groaned.

Nodding, Roy admitted, "I had my run in with drugs, and while I'm glad I'm clean I'll never be the person I was before I started using. Hopefully that Harper kid can get himself straightened out before he does something that there's no coming back from."

Bobby hoped so, too, but from what he'd seen so far it was more likely that his shackle would come off than Vincent Harper would change his tune.

After lunch was another round with the dummies for another two hours of learning, but first Wonder Woman went around and to all the dummies and stuck them with pins.

Courtney explained to her new friend, "Plastic Man once posed as one of the dummies. Unfortunately for him, it was the dummy we were using to train with the shock paddles."

Robert laughed at that as he filed in. It was hard to get a read on the young man – he was totally not the type of person she'd expected Wonder Boy to be. He wasn't the gorgeously handsome teenager that she'd imagined – the videos of his mall exploit were too grainy to make out a face. He also wasn't as cool as she'd imagined either – he'd been pretty impressive on the videos but he seemed like a total noob in person. Well, she supposed that he had time to grow into his role as a superhero.

She watched him as he worked with the dummies, and could practically feel him soaking in the knowledge. Well, at least he wasn't a total dweeb – there was some nice muscle definition under his costume!

"Alpha-level threat reported in Portland, Oregon," the telepathic 'voice' of the Martian Manhunter echoed through the minds of every hero in the tower.

Wonder Woman tapped her earpiece and announced, "Johnn, I'm on it. Atom Smasher, Tempest, Captain Marvel." Looking around she added, "Wonder Boy, Star Girl, STRIPE, you're with me."

"She can't be serious," Robert complained as they followed her out. "I've been a member of the League for, what 5 hours?"

"Welcome to the big-time kid," Pat Dugan, Courtney's stepdad, remarked as they ran towards the Javelin Hanger. At the hanger, Pat ran to a workshop and climbed into his robotic power armor. The Strategic Tactical Robotic Integrated Power Enhancer – S.T.R.I.P.E., or Stripe for short, had been a pet project of Pat's ever since he'd traveled forward in time from ancient Egypt, where he'd ended up after a battle with a cosmic entity in the 1950s! The guy learned by doing, so the suit had been his attempt to catch up with modern technologies.

He'd inherited a lot of stuff from his former partner, Sylvester Pemberton, who'd been styling himself as 'The Star-Spangled Kid' in the '50's, but had changed his moniker to 'Star Man' in the '60's, fighting crime until the '80's when he'd finally given up his Cosmic Converter Staff. In his mid-60s now, the man produced movies out in Hollywood.

Courtney had found the staff, along with a bunch of memorabilia when she'd moved out to Blue Valley with her mom and Pat so that they could 'start fresh'. At first she'd put on a costume just to annoy Pat, but after her first couple adventures she found that being a superhero fulfilled a part of herself that she hadn't known she'd been ignoring.

Robert followed her into the Javelin Aero-Space Plane that was being prepped for launch, and they were soon joined by Atom Smasher, Tempest, and Pat in his STRIPE armor. Wonder Woman was already at the controls, and superfast Captain Marvel was already there, too. Marvel looked back and winked in their direction, making Mary blush – he had looks, muscles and brains, and he was younger than he appeared – 22 or 24. Not too old, she allowed.

"How do you put this on?" Bobby asked as he tried to figure out the five-point-harness that served as seat belts on the Javelin.

Sighing, Courtney helped her friend strap in as the jet lifted vertically through the roof access, getting all the belts in place before Wonder Woman kicked the thrusters to flight mode and they were screaming across the continent. In the seatbacks in front of them, small screens began displaying the preliminary report. A massive lizard had torn its way out of an office building in downtown Portland and was wreaking havoc in the streets. The tower itself was still standing, but even in the ever-moving lens of the helicopter camera they could see that the tower had been weakened by the escaping monstrosity.

At supersonic speeds they crossed the country and arrived in the City of Roses in just 10 minutes time, but in that time secondary explosions had been reported from inside the tower. Putting the ship into a circling pattern, Wonder Woman ordered, "Captain, Tempest, Smasher, you're with me – we need to contain that threat. Star, Stripe, Bobby, I need you three to evacuate that building."

"Crowd control!" Courtney exclaimed. "But I can help you!"

"Catch up to us when the building is secure," the woman ordered as she opened the ramp and leapt out.

The others followed, Captain Marvel carrying Atom Smasher and Wonder Woman carrying Tempest. Robert hesitated at the ramp, and Courtney pushed him out. "Let's go, Wonder Boy."

He screamed as he slipped and fell out the hatch, and she remembered that he could only fly when his bracer was active. Leaping out after him, she watched as he recovered himself, coming to a stop over a building that glowed pink in the sunlight.

"Don't do that again," he spat. "I thought I was going to die!"

"I knew you'd recover," she downplayed her bonehead move.

Growling, Robert considered the situation and asked, "I don't suppose you can support the entire building?"

"No way," Courtney responded. "I'd give myself a coronary trying to control that much mass."

He considered, and pointed to a building on the street opposite. "Do you think you could gather up some of the dust and make a rescue slide to that building?"

Rolling her eyes she announced, "I don't need dust to make a slide."

"I know," he responded thoughtfully, "But your construct would be invisible otherwise, and we need people to be able to see what we're doing."

Feeling like an idiot, the girl gathered up as much dust as she could and formed a rescue slide that would sprint people to safety. Unfortunately, this meant that she wouldn't be able to go into the tower to find people!

"Um, sir, could you contact the local paramedics and have them set up a staging area on the roof?" Robert asked Pat.

"On it," Pat responded. "Do you want me to follow you into the tower?"

"You'd better not – I'm not sure how much that armor weighs, but I don't want to put any more stress on that tower than I have to," the young hero responded.

"I'll put out the fires," her stepdad offered. He'd always been more of a follower than a leader, even back in the '50's when he'd been the adult sidekick of a teenage hero.

Robert nodded and dove for the gaping hole made by the monster's escape.

Bobby had seen plenty of disaster movies; he'd been prepared to see blood and gore all around, but the scene was thankfully lacking a bloodbath. It was Saturday, and the only people who'd been around were the cleaning crews and those behind on their office work. He found some people trapped under furniture while others were trapped in elevator shafts. The top five floors had been completely cut off from the rest of the tower when the creature had made its escape, so those trapped at the top were especially thankful for the rescue.

What the young man found strange as he worked through the tower was that there was no entry hole. He'd thought that the monster might have tunneled up from some place deep in the earth, but as he worked down he discovered the initial destruction had occurred in some type of lab within the tower itself. Scientists lay about, stunned or dead, some seriously wounded. Those that were conscious were helping their fellows.

"What happened here," Bobby asked as he helped one scientist splint the leg of another.

"An experiment," the scientist answered in a thick oriental accent. "We were experimenting with growth enhancers when one of our specimens grew at an alarming rate. It broke free of its restrains and began searching for an escape."

"You grew Godzilla in a lab in Portland, Oregon?" the young man wondered as he looked for a way to evacuate the most critically wounded. "It's tearing apart the town, how do we stop it?"

"Antidote," the Chinese doctor answered, pointing out a series of weapons in a locker that had been smashed open. The smallest was the size of a simple dart gun, and the largest was as big as a bazooka.

"Grab the big one," Bobby said before flying up a couple floors and grabbing a piece of office cubicle. Coming back down, he loaded the two worst off and flew them up, placing the cubicle wall on the slide before going back for more.

Taking everyone he could, including some people he thought might be dead already, he cleared the floor before continuing down only to run into the fire department coming up the stairway. "I've cleared the floors above to the best of my knowledge and evacuated them to a building across the street," he reported.

In the lead the Fire Chief blinked in surprise, taking in the costume. "You're Wonder Boy, right?"

"Yes, sir," Bobby said, thinking it best not to argue with the man. "Is the monster still rampaging?"

Nodding his head the Chief explained, "The Justice League has forced it into a park and are trying to capture it, but the thing just keeps getting bigger."

"Well, I have an antidote for that. Do you need me to help you search?"

"No, go ahead, we've got it from here, Wonder Boy," the Chief answered. "And thank you."

"No, thank you, I've got powers to keep me safe, but what you guys do on a daily basis, that's true heroics," Bobby responded before flying back the way he'd come.

Coming out the hole, Bobby flew to Star Girl and told her, "The Fire Department has it from here, let's catch up with Wonder Woman."

She was sweating, and looked relieved when she let the slide go. Together they landed on the roof and went over to the doctor who was speaking in rapid Mandarin to a woman who looked at death's door.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but how do I use the rocket?" Bobby asked.

The doctor quickly showed him how to operate the gas propelled sedative projectile and the trio flew off to catch up with the rest of the team. Wonder Woman had the rest of the heavy hitters had corralled the 40 foot lizard in a park, but its hide had become so thick that it shrugged off even the most devastating blows. It retaliated with its tail and claws and teeth, tearing at the ground and slicing trees in half.

"Star, make a leash around its front legs, immobilize it," Bobby suggested. Tapping his earpiece he explained to the entire team, "I've got a sedative to put this thing out of action, but I need to hit a vulnerable area."

"There are no vulnerable areas," Atom Smasher cursed. "We've tried hitting it everywhere."

"The soft tissues of the mouth," Captain Marvel countered.

"Star Girl is immobilizing it's front legs, Cap, W's, can you hold it's back legs? Atom, I need you to hold the neck: STRIPE, that leaves you with the tail; do you think you can handle it?"

"What about me?" Tempest requested.

"Spray it in the nose with your water jets, make it open wide for me," Bobby suggested as he came down to land at the monster's front. Pulling up the bazooka-type weapon, he aimed carefully and fired when he saw the beast opening its mouth. The gas-propelled syringe erupted from the front of the weapon and streaked straight into the gaping maw, hitting the back of the throat.

Thrashing even more, the creature spat out the needle, but Bobby could see that the antidote had already been drained. Kicking up a fuss, the creature started to shrink as the fight went out of it, until it was finally just 5 feet from head to tail. He watched amazed, but also a little concerned – the law of conservation of mass would have caused the animal to excrete some kind of substance to account for the lost size.

A military transport pulled into the park, driving over the curb and taking out a swing set as he approached the heroes at speed. When it stopped the oriental scientist stepped out with a familiar, over weight woman of African descent.

"Waller," Wonder Woman made a curse of the name. "I should have know that this was one of your projects."

"It wasn't before, but it is now. Doctor Xu's research was being funded by the FDA, trying to increase the size of livestock so that we could reduce the number of domesticated cows, chickens and pigs," the government official responded. "This incident shows that the process can be weaponized, which means that it falls under Cadmus jurisdiction."

"So what can we expect next? US soldiers capable of growing 50 feet tall?" the Amazonian demanded.

Amanda Waller sniffed, and threatened, "Hopefully you never find out, Princess." To the soldiers she ordered, "Get this thing on the truck – I want to be out of here before the media hounds start baying."

The doctor helped load the creature into a cage, which was placed in the back of the truck before the soldiers loaded back up and left the part.

Bobby frowned, not sure what to make of the situation. He understood that for the sake of National Security, every government had to keep secrets, often from their own citizens, but this seemed a little excessive. Given that he was only 16, and couldn't vote yet, he couldn't make a change to his nation, but he could pay attention to what was going on. In another couple years he could make his opinion felt by voting out of office those who abused the power that the citizens of the US gave them, and vote in responsible men and women. That was democracy at work.

As the woman had warned, the media were on their way. Bobby saw them coming and finally understood the term 'Media Circus' as the different news crews jockeyed for position. In the skies, news choppers vied for position, some coming dangerously close to crashing into each other. He was starting to feel panicky when Princess Diana reached out a hand and pulled Bobby into a position at her right shoulder.

Captain Marvel pushed Courtney to the team leader's other side; the rest of the heroes taking up positions to form a united front against the surge of men and women all clamoring for the story.

Vin Harper turned the TV off in disgust and fumed over his situation. A week after the 'Portland Debut' the media was still going on about 'Wonder Boy' and his role in defeating the giant lizard. They were making it seem as if the little turd-monkey were solely responsible for defeating the monster – find the antidote, coming up with the winning strategy, and firing the weapon that ended the fight. Even the authorities were completely won over by the guy.

The latest report was an interview of the Fire Chief from Portland, Oregon, saying, "I'm very impressed with Wonder Boy – he took his role in rescuing people very seriously and showed a lot of respect when we met on the stairs."

On top of that, Vin was having trouble finding a lawyer who could see that this was all Robert Trevor's fault. They all wanted him to pled 'Guilty' in order to get a lesser sentence. Like any self respecting jury wouldn't see that that the 'wonderful Wonder Boy' wasn't just a super-powered menace that needed to be taught his place in the world. Only, the more news he watched the more Vin realized that Robert was running a near flawless public relations campaign – he couldn't trust the jury to see things his way.

"Such a serious face," a doctor called out as he entered the room. Vin had never seen this doctor before though – he looked like a raison left in the sun too long. "Thinking about your upcoming court battle, huh? Well, I'd be worried too – you're going to be sent to prison for a long time."

He sat down next to the bed and counted off, "The prosecution can prove you used an illegal and dangerous drug, and they can prove it was your cleats that caused the damage to the yard, and there are a dozen videos that show you lifting a bleacher full of students and throwing it. About the only point they'll concede is that the wall is your word against his, but they'll believe his word with all the other points in his favor, and the good work he's doing. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do about it?" Vin scoffed, feeling even worse.

"My name is Doctor Thaddeus Sivana," the man introduced himself. "I'm currently working on a project that is designed to give someone like you superpowers. Of course, it's off the books, but with my system you would have the powers to rival Wonder Boy, even beat him. Then you could prove to the world what a loser Wonder Boy is."

Narrowing his eyes, Vin demanded, "You want me to run away before the trial?"

"So long as the hero remains undefeated you'll never get the justice that you want," Sivana shrugged. "So long as he's the only one with powers, he'll be the hero of this story. Wouldn't you like to have the kind of power to change your own destiny?"

"Yea, I want that kind of power," Vin answered.

Things were finally settling down, Bobby thought as he considered the past week and a half. He'd come back from the 'Portland Debut' to find Mary sitting in his kitchen to announce, "You know, I've never been stood up on a date before, and I've never been stood up two days in a row."

"Yea, sorry about that," he responded sheepishly. "Things got a little . . . uh." He didn't know how to explain.

"Strange," she offered, trying to hide a smile. "Unfortunately, things are going to get even more difficult for you, Bobby. You need a girlfriend!"

"Um, why?" he wondered, and then corrected, "Not that I wouldn't be insanely happy to have you as a girlfriend, but why do I need one?"

With a sigh she explained, "Now that you're Wonder Boy for real the girls will be coming out the wood work to date you, and if you aren't careful you're going to end up in a knocking up some trashy bit you don't even like. Having me as your girlfriend means that I can keep the fame-seekers at bay."

He laughed at her, noting, "You make going out sound like a business proposition."

She blushed, and offered, "Sorry, I spent all day telling my parents how us dating was more of a friend thing than personal interest. Dad was against it, of course, but mom won him over. We can't go anywhere along – just group activities like dances and double dates. If . . . if you want to go out with me?"

"Mary, I would be honored."

And so their relationship had begun. That wasn't the only change though – the moment that Bobby enter school he'd been called to the Principal's office and told, "Due to the recent change in your status as an 'Active Superhero' the School Board has decided on a new policy regarding your education."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Bobby wondered.

The man smiled ruefully and nodded. "Because you can be called out of class at any hour of the day you are going to be given the week's worth of homework in advance. This week your workload will be normal, but Friday you'll receive the homework for next week. I hope that you'll do your best."

"Of course, sir," Bobby responded.

Mary had been right about girls coming out of the woodwork – every girl at school was looking at him differently, and making passes at him. In most cases only Mary's presence made the girls stop their advances, and even then he could see the predatory look in their eyes. He felt more like wild game than a superhero.

Even though the teachers weren't supposed to give him the extra workload until Friday they gave him the next day's homework too. The only classes he didn't get extra homework in was PT, which was relatively quiet without Vincent leading an 'Anti-Bobby' campaign, and Home Economics, which he didn't attend because the school counselor wanted to interview him again. After class he'd been interviewed again by Cynthia Jenkins, going through almost all of the psychologist's questions point for point.

School finally over, Bobby headed home to get a start on his double homework feeling like he'd been pulled through the ringer feet first so that he could feel all the pain. Unfortunately, Tuesday was worse than Monday as he had his first day working at the Police Department after school. What really surprised him was that 'Alvin Draper' was wearing a jersey – with Vincent off the team their last win had been turned over and there was a vacancy on the bench.

Forewarned about what a 'Ride Along' really entailed he wasn't surprised that his first day was nothing but paperwork. Junior Deputy's were mostly paper pushers, and the biggest action that they saw was writing parking tickets. The big surprised there was that Eli had him wearing an actual police uniform while performing his duty. Still the first day was nothing but paperwork.

Wednesday and Thursday were like Tuesday, Friday he took photos at the Football game, watching as the team struggled to pull off a win without Vincent leading the team. He still suspected the entire team of using Toxin, but he couldn't figure out how they were dosing themselves, or how they were avoiding the withdrawal as he watched them file into the after-game dance. It wasn't as fancy as Homecoming, but he finally managed to dance with Mary.

Saturday Bobby spent at Metro Tower training under Wonder Woman.

"I cannot teach you the ways of the Amazons given that you are male, but I've adapted several of Man's Martial Arts to something close enough for our purposes," the woman explained. "The culmination of your training is what we of Themyscira call 'Arrows and Bracers', where you will be able to use your swiftness and strength to deflect objects traveling at sonic speeds – arrows and bullets."

"That sounds dangerous," Bobby noted.

"It is dangerous – piercing weapons are one of the few weaknesses that Amazonians have, but it beats trying to leap and dodge between bullets when they are coming at you faster than you can blink," she countered. "This training will also help you control your strength and speed so that you can safely fly people to safety without hurting them."

Bobby nodded, that was something that he wanted to be able to do. He liked being a rescuer than a fighter.

"Oh, yes, I got this for you," Diana exclaimed, producing a red utility belt with a 'W' shaped eagle for a buckle. "Batman made it especially for you, so take care of it."

"I will, thank you."

Sunday was nothing but homework, but fortunately his teachers had prepped him for it by giving him the extra homework earlier in the week, so Sunday was more of a refresher course than the slam it would have been. His mom and step-dad were a big help as they reviewed all of his homework for spelling, grammar and math errors. Mary came over to help, but as the work was a year ahead of her studies. However, she did provide a much needed distraction in the form of a tennis match to blow off stress.

The next Monday things settled into the new pattern, but another surprise was delivered – Vincent Harper had mysteriously disappeared from the hospital where he'd been undergoing dialysis to remove the Toxin crystals from his muscle tissues. Bobby had a bad feeling that his schoolyard rival was going to get himself in an even worse situation. He tried not to think about it as he helped edit the school paper and went about his normal routine. About the only thing of note was that his peers weren't so keen on asking him 'What's it like to be a superhero?' when they saw the mass of homework he was being assigned daily.

Cynthia's reports helped too: she'd been interviewing various members of the 'Three Letter Posse', as she'd dubbed them. The FBI, DEO, and Department of Homeland Security (DHS) had agents in town to 'keep an eye on things'. Some of her remarks were candid to the point that Bobby was left wondering just how 'in depth' her interview technique was.

Tuesday was uneventful, but Wednesday . . .

Bobby was sitting in math class when a park bench came flying through the window. Everyone took cover as glass scattered everywhere, and the young man's first instinct was to make sure that everyone was alright. Looking out the window though he realized that he would have to deal with the threat first – Vincent Harper had returned.

With the threat presented the bracer activated, and Bobby flew out the shattered windows to face his rival. Vincent had been outfitted with a black bodysuit under plates of armor; the armor covered him to the ears with his hair and face left exposed. The armor gleamed a sickly purple color in the autumn sunlight.

"This is the wrong place for this, Vincent," Bobby called out.

"No, this is the perfect place," Vincent spat back. "This way everyone can see me crush you like the bug you are."

With that announcement made the older teen rushed forward calling out, "And the name is 'Detox'."

Bobby remembered what Wonder Woman told him: _"A martial art is meant to augment your natural instinct, not replace them. Trust yourself."_

Rolling onto his back, Bobby kicked and sent his rival flying over the school. Recovering, he followed, and saw the ex-jock land in a tumble on the football field. He landed, gesturing to the surrounding area, "I think this is more suitable – less witnesses, but this is the place you first tried to bully me into following your lead."

"Well, at least you have a sense of irony," Vincent growled. "I'm going to own you."

Vincent came at him again, and Bobby used what little he'd learned to counter the assault. As they traded blows Bobby's natural reaction was to taunt his opponent, asking, "I'm confused, are you a bully because your dad beats you, or because he didn't beat you?"

"My father is a good man," the older teen growled. "He's raised me to be a leader, a ruler."

Blocking the blow, Bobby countered with a head-butt to Vincent's head, but his forehead bounced off a forcefield that was being projected by the plates over the older teen's ears. Laughing, Vincent caught Bobby in a bear hug, squeezing him hard, and Bobby responded by slapping Vincent's ears, staggering his rival. As Vincent staggered slightly, Bobby grabbed hold of the forearm plates of the black armor and put one foot on Vincent's chest, kicking off with all his strength.

The plates tore free, taking the armored gloves with them, spurting the ugly blue of the advanced Toxin mix. Bobby tossed the gauntlets aside, noting, "I guess he didn't beat you enough then."

"You don't know anything!" Vincent screamed, coming at him again.

"All your life you took what you wanted, and no one stood up to you," Bobby responded, countering the attacks, "your daddy was the head of the School Board before he became Mayor, so all the teachers were scared of reporting your bullying, afraid that they'd lose their jobs."

Grabbing the chest plate at the base, Bobby put one foot on the thigh plate and kicked off again, ripping the armor away, and following up with a spin, using the armored piece to smack Vincent across the face. Vincent was sent tumbling away, recovering in the in-zone.

Bobby taunted, "So, you grew up thinking that everyone would roll over for you – your classmates, your teachers, and probably the police, too. That's why your dad brought in someone from outside town to be the Chief of Police, someone who wouldn't take your crap. And then there's Mary – you probably considered her dislike of you as a challenge, that's why you're so fixated on her."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT MY DAD, DAMN IT!" Vincent shouted, coming back for more. "You don't know anything! This is my town, I can do anything here, and I can date anyone I want to. Mary will be mine, after I show everyone what a pitiful little shit you are!"

Vincent was falling back on his boxing experience – he'd been the golden-gloves winner for his age group back in Elementary School. Bobby blocked and countered with kicks and with the altitude advantage he could put to use. Practicing punches and blocks while floating twenty feet in the air helped him put his rival onto the defensive.

Bobby flew at ankle level, grabbing his opponent's leg and spinning, throwing the older teen onto the ground where he bounced and struggled to get up. It seemed that the gauntlets and chest had held the majority of the Toxin, and without those two pieces he was burning through the drug. Pretty soon it would be crystallizing, tearing apart his muscles if he tried to continue the fight.

Swooping down, Bobby pulled the rest of the armored plates away as Vincent's attacks became less coordinated, his cries of outrage mixing with tears of pain. After about 10 minutes Vincent could no longer stand on this own but was still trying to fight. If things keep up as they were then the older teen was going to die, but the paramedics wouldn't be able to get close if Vincent kept thrashing!

"Bobby," a voice called out, "Bobby, this way!"

Looking up, Bobby saw Tim Drake/Alvin Draper standing at the edge of the field, waving towards the locker room. Nodding, the young hero gathered up his opponent and flew towards the locker room doors with Tim following at a sprint. When all three of them were in the locker room Tim led the way to the sauna.

"The heat will prevent the crystals from forming, Vincent will sweat it out naturally, but I'm not sure – that was a massive dose," Tim explained.

Pinning the older teen to the ground, Bobby waited while Tim left the sauna and returned with a saline drip. It took a few minutes to fit the needle into Vincent's arm, and Tim added a second bag, explaining, "It's a sedative – should put Vinnie out for a couple hours while he sweats out the drug."

"This is how the football team is doing it, right?" Bobby wondered. "How they're avoiding the withdrawal stage."

Tim nodded.

"How are they getting the drug anyway?" the hero asked.

"The sports drink at the games – there's a special button in the table, pushing it releases Toxin into the flow as they fill their cups," Tim answered. "That way the staff and cheerleaders don't get drugged."

Bobby frowned, facts coming together as he watched his friend leave and return with a couple bottles of water. "I like that were on the same side again, 'Al'," Bobby told his friend, "But I don't like being lied to."

Tim sighed and looked away, prompting Bobby to laugh: "Wow, BM's got you all wound up, huh? Can't even answer a simple question?"

It felt like the silence between them was becoming poisonous when the paramedics opened the sauna door and stepped inside. Tim refused to even look at the emergency workers, leaving it to Bobby to explain what was happening.

"Keeping the temperature up prevents the Toxin crystals from forming, but we have to be sure to keep him hydrated. The additional bag is a sedative that's keeping Harper from fighting back. I suggest we keep him here for at least an additional 30 minutes and then use blankets to keep his heat up while transporting him," Bobby explained.

"Sounds good," the lead Paramedic responded. "We'll take over from here – Chief Brown is waiting outside for your report."

Nodding, the two teenagers stepped outside, and Bobby turned to his old friend. "I guess this is goodbye, now that your assignment is done."

"I . . .," Tim sighed, his shoulders slumping and his voice turning dejected, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Bobby didn't answer as he looked for the Chief. He consoled himself with the thought that Tim didn't like being forced to keep secrets as much as Bobby didn't like secrets being kept from him. Well, the least Tim could do was explain to Eli what was going on with the juiced up football players. Spotting Eli standing with Diana and his parents, Bobby turned to Tim, but found that the other teen had slipped away, leaving Bobby to face his superiors on his own.

"Damn it, Tim, you owe me big time," Bobby muttered to himself.

End Chapter Three


	4. Loss

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction set in the DC Animated Universe, and certain characters are copyrights of DC Comics. These characters are used without the consent of DC, but no money is being generated from the posting of this story. If another author wants to use characters or events from this story in their own please ask me first – maybe we can coordinate interlocking stories?

Wonder Boy: Part I – Reluctant

Chapter Four: Loss

The fallout from the second schoolyard battle wasn't as bad as Bobby had expected. He reached the gathering of adults, wondering which of them was more furious at him – Wonder Woman, his mentor, or Nathan, his stepdad. Wonder Woman's complaint was, "Three weeks of design and you don't wear your costume to your first solo fight?"

"No time to change," Bobby replied with a shrug. "What about the rest of the kids in the class? Were any of them hurt?"

"Some cuts and scrapes, one of them had his right arm and that half of his chest crushed when the bench hit him. He's already been life-lifted to the hospital," Eli answered. "He was the JV Captain, which puts the whole Football program on thin ice."

"Well, then I've got an icebreaker for you," Bobby said, ready to drop the proverbial bomb. "The entire team has been using Toxin – if you look at the cooler and table setup you'll find a remote that injects small quantities of Toxin into the sports drink as the players fill their cups. By taking small doses over the course of the game they avoid withdrawal, and then they detox in the sauna in the boy's changing room: the heat prevents the crystals from forming, allowing the sum total of the Toxin to be sweated out."

Diana was in shock, demanding, "How did you figure this out?"

"I worked out most of the points myself, but Vincent told me the rest – pain and the threat of death loosened his tongue," Bobby lied as best he could. If his suspicion was correct then Tim Drake, aka Alvin Draper, was really Robin, the Boy Wonder, and Bobby wasn't going to repay 10 years of friendship by giving up Tim's secret.

The Amazon Princess gave him an appraising look, so Bobby drew and 'R' on his left breast, letting her in on the secret. Her eyes widened, and then drew into a smile. Fortunately, the move was completely lost on the other adults.

"Is this the kind of thing we can expect now?" Nathan demanded. "Psychotic schoolboys out to prove themselves?"

Eli frowned, considering the man. "Nathan, I understand your point, but I don't see how we can change things. Bobby doesn't have a secret identity to hide behind."

"Robert could refuse to use his powers," Nathan stressed. "He could go back to being as normal a teenager as possible."

Diana pointed out, "That wouldn't have stopped this Vincent Harper from singling out Bobby and attacking him. I have seen people like the Harper Boy – they are completely convinced of their own superiority and will come back time and again, going further each time, until they succeed in proving their superiority or achieve the 'ultimate end' in their search for power."

"Careful," Mayor Harper growled as he joined the group, "That's my son you're talking about."

"So it is," Wonder Woman pointed out as she turned to face the newcomer. "And as his father that makes what he has become your responsibility."

Bobby could see where Vincent got his good looks – Mayor Harper was a handsome man, charismatic in the way of a career politician, well suited to the duties that he'd been appointed to. He wondered if the father had been aware of the child he'd been raising on more than a strictly financial basis.

"Vincent will receive counseling, and in time he'll be a benefit to his community," the man answered, showing just how deluded he was.

Surprisingly, it was Bobby's mother who remarked, "With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, but your son is a monster. His personal vendetta has driven him to using a dangerous chemical concoction that has to potential to kill him if he doesn't have immediate medical attention. Your boy has nearly died twice in the past two weeks, and you stand there talking about counseling and community. The way I see it, the time for intervention has passed. If your son comes anywhere near my boy again I will see to it that both of you serve prison time!"

"Samantha," Nathan barked, stepping between the Mayor and his wife. In a calmer voice he asked, "Samantha, please, go wait in the car. Please."

The mother blushed, and turned away, still looking furious.

"I'm sorry," Nathan explained, "We just found out two days ago – we're pregnant."

"Wow," Eli remarked, "You're both pregnant? How did you manage that one?"

Nathan gave the man a look of complete disbelief before bursting into laughter. "Uh, Samantha's the only one that's pregnant. I meant that she's pregnant with my child."

"Congratulations," Wonder Woman said with a bow of her head. "However, it does not change the fact that, while passionately said, her words never the less ring of truth. Mr. Harper, your son is a detriment to himself, his family and his community – in the short time I've been aware of him he has caused nearly half a million in damages to this school. This is supposed to be a place of learning; your son should be worrying about getting into college, not making his peers bow down before him. I can tell you that the Justice League will be paying close attention to your son's actions and to you as well, sir."

A paramedic was standing to one side, and stepped in to say, "I'm sorry to say that young Mr. Harper has gone missing. We loaded him on the life-flight but it went missing before reaching the hospital."

"YOU LOST MY SON!" the Mayor roared. "What kind of incompetent ass-monkey are you?"

Eli put one of his big hands on the Mayor's shoulder. "Check yourself, Mayor," the Chief of Police warned.

Taking a cleansing breath, the Mayor responded, "I'm sorry, this entire situation has me under a lot of stress. If you'll excuse me I should look into this."

Bobby sighed to himself – he imagined that whoever had sprung for the delivery gear had also orchestrated the escape. It would have to be someone with connections both high and low. That kind of person would make for a dangerous opponent. With someone like that supporting Vincent, and likely pandering to his delusions, then the jock was likely only going to get into a worse situation than ever.

"Regardless of who is at fault, the fact is that Bobby cannot merely fade into the background," Wonder Woman told Nathan. "Unlike the Harper boy, Bobby has done his utmost to stay out of the center of things, but like most heroes those who wish to challenge themselves find themselves drawn to him. It is the curse of heroes to be challenged, regularly; only by remaining vigilant can a measure of peace be maintained."

"You're saying that because Robert has accepted the role of a hero he'll draw villains like bugs to a zapper?" Nathan scoffed.

"I'm saying that Bobby has always been a hero – to the young boys and girls he defended back in Gotham, to the young photographers who buy his table book, and to the mother he supported through her darkest hour," Diana answered.

"Please, Princess, that's enough," Bobby cut in with a sigh. "Nathan, if Vincent shows up again I'm not going to stand by and let him beat people and destroy public property. It was never in my nature to roll over for bullies, and I'm not going to start. Now quit bullying me."

"I, uh," he responded, looking uncertain. "I'm not trying to bully you, Ro, er, Bobby. What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be a hero if that's not what you want to be. It's not like you're being paid to be a superhero."

"Neither is Batman or Green Arrow or the dozen other men and women who put their lives on the line daily," Bobby shot back.

"But Wonder Woman and Superman are paid for their services – Superman as a Police Deputy and you, Diana, as an Ambassador for your people," Nathan countered.

"Except that they don't have secret identities," Bobby countered. "Yes, they are being paid, but everyone knows who they are. Batman, Green Arrow, Flash, they don't get paid, but also don't have to reveal their true identities."

"And what do you get?" Nathan offered as his own counter. "You're not being paid to be a Junior Deputy?"

"I'm getting training," Bobby explained. "The Police are training me in the basic procedures, the Justice League in First Responder skills. I'm a teenager with superpowers – honestly, I'm surprised that I'm not under house arrest at this point."

The special recovery tank promoted sweat, causing Vin to excrete the last of the chemical concoction that he'd absorbed through the specially designed suit he'd been wearing. Before 'Wonder Boy' had started ripping the armor off he'd been putting up a good fight. Hopefully Sivana was working on a way to overcome that weakness so that next time he could put Robert Trevor in his place!

A beeping sound alerted him that his time in the tank was done, and he swam to the surface, pulling off his breathing mask before climbing out.

"You lost," a man's voice accused, and Vin looked around find the source.

"Mr. Bromfield?" Vin exclaimed, shocked to see Mary's dad standing with a group of scientists.

"I was rooting for you, Vincent," the older man remarked as he gestured towards the spare dose suit that was being prepared. "Hoping you'd put that boy in his place. Do you know what went wrong?"

"It was the armor, sir," the young man spat, "The seams gave that joke of a hero a place to grip – he practically pealed the armor off of me."

"Doctor Sivana, your thoughts?" Theo Bromfield asked the lead scientist.

"Well, I did have plans for an internal pump," the wizen scientist mused, "But I thought it too extreme for this phase of testing."

Like Vin, the patron of the Bromfield family seemed to think that the problem was a trivial matter, "What are its capabilities?"

"Well, like the armor it would filter Toxin from the bloodstream, warm it, and re-release it, prolonging the life of the dose. However, it would require the intestines to be shortened, forcing the user to consume only specially prepared foods. And, of course, eventually the dose would run out, so it would require the user to take another dose every hour or so," the doctor nay sayed.

Vin snorted, "It doesn't sound so extreme to me. Sign me up, Doc, I want nothing getting in the way of giving Wonder Boy what he deserves."

A tap on the window brought Bobby awake, but it was around the time he normally woke up – 4 am – so he didn't feel groggy as he looked around. Someone was out on the roof! Climbing out of bed he opened the window and climbed out to find Tim sitting on the roof.

"Hey," Bobby remarked as he went to sit next to his old friend. "This is a little different – there were few peaked roofs back in Gotham."

"Yea, but we used to always sit on the roof, trying to see the stars," Tim added with a smile. "I'm sorry that I had to lie to you, but, you know . . ."

"Batman?" Bobby wondered.

"Uh, yea," the other teen responded.

"So, Robin, the Boy Wonder," Bobby considered, looking his friend over. Tim had grown a lot in the past three or so years since they'd seen each other. He still had the same mop of black hair, and the same cocky smile. Leaning back, Bobby thought aloud, "Who would have put odds on both of us becoming superheroes."

"I'm not a superhero, no powers," Tim pointed out.

Laughing, the teen inquired, "Do you really think that having no powers makes you less of a hero than me or Courtney? The fact that you don't have powers just makes what you can do all the more amazing to me."

"Yea, I guess," his friend answered. "You've got a weird way of looking at things, Bobby."

"Yea? Well, it's more fun being weird," Bobby responded. "So, am I going to see you at the Metro Tower? Wonder Woman has me practicing against Black Canary."

"Wow, I didn't think you were gay," Tim laughed. "I'd rather spar against Dinah than Batman any day."

"I'm not, but against Batman you don't have to worry about where you grab him during a throw," Bobby countered.

"Okay, point taken," the other teen laughed. "Honestly, sparring against you might be fun, so, yea, I mean 'Alvin Draper' doesn't have to appear in court, not with so many other football players coming forward to confess what they know. The Senior Classmen are worried that they're going to lose their sports scholarships."

"Isn't that an oxymoron: Sport Scholarship? Especially for these guys," Bobby asked, getting a laugh out of Tim.

"Man, I missed you," Tim laughed. "Well, now that we're both 'superheroes' we can hang out like we used to."

"Yea, feel free to stop by any time," Bobby offered. "I know my mom would love to have us both around – she used to ask me where you were, forgetting that we weren't on speaking terms after you left school."

"I heard it was bad, but Batman's rules," the other teen shrugged.

"Nathan's made it better, and you probably haven't heard, but my mom's expecting – in six months I'll be a big brother!"

"Oh, wow, congrats, man," Tim cheered. He leaned back, staring up into the sky and wondered, "You, a big brother. Either that's going to be one tough kid, or one pampered princess, with you looking out for them."

Bobby chuckled, imagining.

Diana watched the training session, wondering at the difference that a same-gender pairing made for sparing. Before, Robert had been reluctant to use grapples and throws when sparing with a woman, especially an older woman. Against Timothy there was no hesitation, no holding back. Granted, Robert could snap his childhood friend in two, but he held back, using only enough force to do what needed to be done.

The pair both had utility belts, and Robin was teaching Wonder Boy how to use the numerous gadgets that the belt came equipped with. Mixed into their sparing were smoke-pellets and snap-bombs. Tim used his grappling hood to grab hold of Robert when the boy tried to use his flight to get clear of a smoke bomb, used an exposed I-beam to gain leverage, pulling Wonder Boy back to the ground where they fought hand to hand.

From what she understood, Robert had been the better fighter back when they'd been tackling bullies together, but things had changed over the years. In that time Tim had come under the tutelage of Bruce Wayne, the mysterious 'Bat-Man', who'd trained the young man in multiple forms of martial arts. With years of ruthless training behind him, Timothy was now the better fighter, but Robert was no slouch either.

After weeks of training, Robert had begun to master the basics of the martial form she'd developed, but with years of street fighting and schoolyard brawls, the boy's technique was still centered on fighting groups instead of single fighters. Robert also had the added benefit of being slow to fatigue due to his powers, which matched the other teen's years of resistance training. It was nearly thirty minutes after the start that the boys finally gave up, laughing as they fell onto their butts, exhausted.

"Very well done," Diana applauded the pair. "Get cleaned up and then take the rest of the day off."

"Really?" Robert wondered.

His surprise was understandable – she'd been working him every Saturday for nearly two months, but training had to be broken up by leisure time, or the body would establish a precedent. "Yes, really," she told him. "You're both free for the rest of the day."

She left the pair to their plans as to how they would spend the hours and headed for her own quarters. There was a secondary reason for giving Robert the day off – her mother had contacted her requesting a conference. Even though Metro Tower doubled as the Amazonian Consulate, it was still rare that Hippolyta contacted Diana, and not the other way around.

Communications in and around Paradise Island were disrupted by the isle's magical barriers, so the primary mode of communication was through mystical mirrors. These marvels had been created by Hephaestus with the aid of Hermes and Iris – the God and Goddess of Messengers. Sitting in front of the mirror she performed the rites and the reflective material shimmered, changing to show her mother sitting in front of her own mirror.

"Daughter, it is wonderful to see you again, my dear," the woman announced. "Your visits are so infrequent."

"I am sorry, mother, things have been interesting here in Man's World," Diana responded.

"Hum," the woman intoned, "I suppose this has something to do with the young man you have taken under your wing?"

Trying to keep from blushing, the daughter agreed, "It is, mother. His name is Robert Trevor, the grandson of the man I met when traveling back in time to the era known as World War II."

With a snort, Hippolyta responded, "Only Man could make war with the entire world, twice. However, it is the boy I wished to speak to you about. Do you know the tale of your cousin, Hippolytus?"

"I am, mother," Diana responded, recalling the tail. Her aunt, Antipole, had refused the Goddess's offer of immortality in favor seeking revenge against the heroes who'd enslaved the Amazons for a time. In retaliation, Eros had been sent to make Antipole fall in love with her former captor, Theseus. She'd bore the founder of Athens one child, a son, whom she'd named in memory of her sister, Diana's mother. The name she'd chosen was 'Hippolytus'.

Theseus had another wife though, the deceitful Phaedra, who'd attempted to seduce Hippolytus. The servant of Artemis, the young Hippolytus had sworn to remain celibate until his goddess released him. Angry at her advances being rebuffed, Phaedra conspired against Hippolytus, making it seem that he'd forced himself on her. In his anger Theseus had used one of three wishes from the sea god, Poseidon, to teach his son a lesson. The god had sent a sea monster to spook Hippolytus' chariot horses, but the animals had become so frightened that they unbalanced their driver, and dragged Hippolytus to his death.

"What you may not be aware of is that Hippolytus survived his ordeal, but only barely. A slave in Theseus' house, Aricia, heard the man's wish and prayed to Artemis. The goddess went to Asclepius, the child of Apollo, and begged that the young man's life be saved. Asclepius agreed, and healed Hippolytus, but rather than return to the home of his father and Phaedra's unwanted advances he traveled to Rome where he took up the name Virbius. In time he was released from his service to Artemis and married Aricia, who'd run with him from his father's house. Aricia gave him one known child, a boy. Eventually Hyppolytus became a minor god, acting as a mediator between Artemis, Goddess of Maidens, and Hera, Goddess of Marriage. Since opening ties with Man's World I have been investigating the fate of the child and come across a strange convergence of fates," her mother explained. "A direct bloodline from father to son connects your young protégé to your cousin, Hippolytus."

Diana gasped, putting her choices to train Robert into that context. Certain things made more sense with the understanding that, however many generations had passed, they shared a common ancestry.

Still reeling from the implications, Diana wondered, "What does this mean for Bobby?"

"It means a great deal, given that he and his grandfather are the exception to the ancient laws against men coming to the island. You speak of bridging the gap between Man and Amazon, and if you are truly dedicated to that cause then young Robert might be a powerful ally in your quest. Personally, I would like to meet Antipole's heir, should you ever wish to bring him," Hippolyta allowed.

"Can I teach him the ways of the Amazons?" the daughter asked, but could instantly see the wariness in her mother's eyes.

"Already there is much debate about your training a male in any way, I would advise against training the boy in the Amazonian traditions except for the arrows and bracer technique you seem so set in teaching him," the mother answered.

Bowing slightly, Diana conceded, "I will do as you say, Mother."

"You have much to consider, daughter, and I am sorry for placing this burden upon you. Meditate on this new knowledge, and go forward with the blessings of the Five Goddesses," the Amazonian Queen intoned.

"I will, mother; thank you for bringing me this news," Wonder Woman said with a bow. Abruptly she was staring at her own reflection, the link having been closed from the other end. As the one being contacted, it was her mother's right to end the conversation, and Diana certainly had a lot to think about.

Gotham City hadn't changed much in the three months since Bobby had moved up north. Even in the light of day there was an oppressive gloom about the place that was both startling and familiar. He followed his friend across the familiar rooftops, flying only when Tim used his grappling hook to propel himself between buildings.

Tim paused by a gargoyle and looked out over the city, considering, "So, what do you think of your hometown now that you've been away for so long?"

"Disturbingly comfortable," Bobby responded, taking in the vista. "Hey, I think I used this gargoyle for one of my photos."

"Yea, actually it was the back cover," Tim answered, frowning. "This is normally where I meet Stephanie."

"Spoiler," a girl's voice interrupted as she stepped out of the shadows. The girl was wearing a hooded costume in a purple that was more red than blue, with a blank black mask over her face. Since the last time he'd seen the getup Stephanie Brown had picked up some new gear – a custom utility belt like the one Tim was wearing.

"Hey, Steph," Bobby said, stepping up and giving the girl a hug. They'd dated long enough that the move didn't feel odd, but the flame that had been between them had gone out, leaving them only friends. "How are things?"

"Good," she hugged him back and then went to sit next to Tim. "How about you, Wonder Boy?"

Bobby rolled his eyes and sat on the roof terrace. "Nothing to complain about, really," he said with a shrug.

"Which means that a normal person would have nothing to complain about, but you . . ." she gave him the opening.

He told them all about school, about not being allowed to play sports, the court-ordered psychiatric evaluations and school paper, the entire tree of homework he was given weekly. Bobby described his mentor as a ruthless taskmistress who spent most of her time thinking up new ways to torture him. Mary he described as a God-send, giving him one of the few outlets of normalcy that he had in the crazy mess he was calling a life.

Shaking her head, Stephanie pointed out, "Any other guy would be thrilled to be Wonder Boy, they'd be dating the Varsity Cheer Captain and sleeping with the rest of the squad, getting others to do his homework and slacking off in class. Am I wrong?"

She directed the last at Tim, who only shrugged.

"Oh, don't give me that," the girl sneered, "You know that if your roles were reversed you'd be dating the prettiest girl in town."

"No, I don't think I'd have ever been in Bobby's situation," Tim responded, "Because I'm not stupid enough to blurt my name where everyone could hear. I would have kept my identity a secret, so I'd never be in his situation."

"And I am dating the prettiest girl in town," Bobby pointed out. "Of course, 'Robin's' dating the prettiest girl in his town, too."

"I have to agree with him there," Tim responded, taking the opening.

Stephanie rolled her eyes, but she leaned into her boyfriend a little more. It was easy to see that Tim and Steph were a better match than Bobby had been for the girl. To both, keeping secrets was second nature, both had kept their father's secrets for years – both their fathers had been career criminals, Stephanie's dad was serving another prison term at the moment. Both had found a new father figure in the stoic Dark Knight of Gotham, Tim in a more direct form as Bat-Man's teenage partner and ward of the hero's public persona.

"If you two start kissing, I'm leaving," Bobby warned, causing them both to blush.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, attracting all three teenager's attention. It was the girl in their midst who inquired, "Should we check it out?"

Bobby and Tim nodded to each other and Bobby kicked off while the other teens produced grappling launchers. Crossing the four blocks quickly, the trio came upon one of the strangest scenes any of them had seen. A municipal park had come alive in the strangest way – trees were attacking people, light posts were firing off beams of energy, and water was spraying from the fountain. The whole park had gone crazy!

"Any idea who is behind this?" Bobby asked.

"There," Tim called out, pointing to a lone teenager who was cradling a kitten in his arms as he crossed the chaos. "That's Clarion, the Witch-Boy – he's a Beta-level magical threat."

"Doesn't that mean we call in Etrigan, Zatanna or Doctor Fate?" the only super-powered teenager in the group remarked.

"Why?" the other boy rolled his eyes, "Batman and I face Beta threats all the time. Come on!"

They swung and swooped into the park and headed for the playground where 'the Witch-Boy' was playing with his kitty. As they got closer, Bobby noted that the cat was larger than he'd first thought, the size of a full grown cat. Clarion himself was dressed up like a Quaker child, complete with buckled shoes.

Bobby took the lead while his partners split up, setting up a pincer attack. Knowing that such an attack depended on keeping the object's attention focused elsewhere, 'Wonder Boy' held his arms out wide and called out. "Clarion, right? Is all this you're doing?"

Clarion peered back, considering the strange, costumed teenager who'd landed in his playground. The cat hissed, it's hackles rising, and it actually seemed to grow bigger.

"You know me, but I don't know who you are, sir," the magic-user commented as he smirked. "What be your name?"

"Trevor Barnes," Bobby answered, using his hyphenated last name.

"That isn't your real name," Clarion pouted.

Bobby chuckled, and responded with, "You really expect me to use the name my father gave me at a time like this? Names have power in magic, don't they?"

"Ah, so you know something of magic," the other boy cheered with a nod. "Too bad that won't help your little friends. Teelk!"

The hissing cat sprang forward, morphing from a kitty-cat to a predatory feline. Meanwhile Tim and Stephanie leapt from the shadows, and Clarion sent out two beams of magical energy. Robin dodged his, but Spoiler wasn't as quick and was transformed into a dove. Bobby put up his arm, letting the critter clamp down on the Nth metal bracer, only to release his arm and jump away, spitting angrily. It shifted again, this time becoming an anthropomorphic cat-girl.

Teelk came back, using clawed feet and hands. Bobby blocked, using the skills he'd learned from Wonder Woman to deal with the creature's supernatural speed and strength. It didn't like his bracers, probably because they were made of Nth metal, which negated magical energies.

"Don't like the hardware, huh?" Bobby asked, taking a blink to see what Tim was up to.

Clarion was keeping the Boy Wonder at a distance by animating the playground equipment and firing off magical bolts of energy.

"ROBIN," Bobby called out, remembering to use codenames, "Switch it up!"

Abandoning Teelc, Bobby flew at Clarion, hoping that his elemental powers could match the Witch-Boy's powers. Seeing him coming, Clarion threw a magic bolt at Wonder Boy, who responded by bringing his bracers together in front of him. The Shackle bounced off the regular bracer, creating a peeling noise that seemed to have an effect on the surroundings. Animated playground equipment snapped back to normal, and the mystic bolt bounced off an invisible wall to hit one of the light posts, which exploded.

He could see astonishment in the other boy's eyes, and the magic user started flinging bolts. Bobby's training was nowhere near the level where Wonder Woman would start teaching the 'arrows and bracers' technique, but he managed to block some of the spells and dodged the rest. Stopping just short of Clarion, Bobby brought his bracers together as hard as he could, sending out an invisible wall of sound that caused the Witch-Boy to clap his hands over his ears.

Teelc screeched, abandoning Robin to come skittering towards its master. The Boy Wonder snapped a handcuff around the creature's collar and a piece of unanimated playground equipment. She hit the limit of the chain and clawed at the restraint, trying to get back to her master.

Catching the boy by the collar, Bobby tapped the Clarion as lightly on the forehead as he could. "Cut it out," Wonder Boy told the Witch-Boy. "Just change things back to normal and we'll let you and your familiar go."

"Bobby?" Tim called out, not sure that was the way to go.

"Don't worry, Rob, I got this," Bobby called back, putting Clarion down and straightening out his clothes. "You understand why we fight you, don't you? When you hurt other people with your fun others will come to stop you – the police, the military, Bat-Man, Robin, myself – we'll come."

"But what's the fun of playing alone?" Clarion complained.

"You're right," the young man responded, "it is no fun playing alone. But why don't to take up a different game, like chess – so long as no one is hurt no one will stop you, and there are plenty of kids our age who like the game."

Turning away, Bobby called to his friend, "Let the cat go."

Still uncertain, Tim uncuffed the familiar's collar and it scampered back to its master, leaping into Clarion's arms in its cat form, meowing threateningly. "Let's go, Teelc, this game isn't fun anymore," the Witch-Boy called out, snapping his fingers.

The sound echoed across the whole park, the invisible wall shifting things back to their original positions. Dove-Spoiler had been flying towards Robin when Stephanie changed back into human form and Tim had to catch her.

"That was either the craziest thing you've ever done," Tim called out as he put Stephanie down, "Or the most amazing."

Shrugging, Bobby explained, "Most bullies just want attention that they don't get at home – either their parents pay too little attention to them, or pay them the wrong kind of attention. Clarion just wants attention, and like most bullies he doesn't know what kind of attention he wants, or how to get it."

"So you bop him on the head and tell him to be a good boy?" Stephanie responded angrily.

"No, I bopped him on the head and told him to find another outlet," he responded, reaching out the rub Spoiler's masked head. "Of course, I told you the same thing, and you're still here."

She swatted his hand away. Normally she would have bitten at him, but the mask prevented that.

Laughing, Bobby asked, "Hey, how about we ditch the costumes and just hang out?"

The couple looked to each other, and Tim looked down, admitting, "Spoiler doesn't know my secret identity."

That caught Bobby by surprise. He'd thought his two friends were beyond the point of telling each other their secrets. Both of them were mired in secrets though, and the Bat-Man would have grilled it into his protégé that secrets were to be kept at all costs.

"Slick back your hair, wear sunglasses, and call yourself 'Al'," Bobby laughed. "You can at least pretend to be a normal teenager for a while, Boy Wonder."

Tim looked to Stephanie, who admitted, "I would like to see you without the mask – maybe go to the movies incognito."

After a moment more, Tim shrugged, and announced, "I've got a safe house close by. We can change there."

School on Monday was a new kind of hell for Bobby. Everyone knew about the fight, a lot of people had seen it in person. There was also the fact that the football players, who'd been arrayed against him since before he'd gotten their star player arrested, were suddenly in a bad light. Still wearing long-sleeved dress shirts to school he did his best to look nothing like a superhero as he sat in the front of each class.

People asked if he was wearing his costume under the clothes, to which he held up his unarmored right arm. The spare bracer was in his backpack, along with his utility belt and the Nth metal greaves that completed his costume. Everyone was used to seeing him wearing red boots, so they didn't realize he was wearing his costume boots. Under his dress shirt and slacks he was wearing his costume, with an added layer of a white t-shirt so that no one could see the blue material of his top.

Sitting in class Bobby heard sirens in the distance, but he forced himself to stay on task. He had his cell phone in his pocket, which was technically against class rules, but he had a waiver. According to the agreement he'd made with the school he couldn't leave class unless he was called out by either the Justice League, the Chief of Police, or a super-criminal.

Continuing to take notes, the young man ignored the looks of his peers, all of whom were wondering why he would calmly sit through class when there was obviously an emergency going on somewhere.

The cell in his pocket vibrated, and Bobby packed his bag, making his way towards the door with a: "Sorry, sir, I've got to take this.

He headed towards the bathroom while the call was forwarded to his ear-comm. "Bobby?" he heard Eli's voice in his ear.

"Not so loud, Chief, these League comm. devices had really good speakers," the young man countered as he ducked into the bathroom and quickly stripped out of his clothes. The jeans had been designed with Velcro down the lower leg so that it could come off easily.

Changing quickly, he focused his thoughts on the power shackle – anger, fear, hope – the disks within the metal sleeve began to spin, lighting up the star-shaped reliefs in the metal – red, yellow, blue. Stepping out of the school he kicked off and flew towards the commotion.

"We've got a structural fire at the old hotel," the Chief of Police explained. "Most of the building has been evacuated, but the building has become too dangerous for the firemen to move around in."

As the man finished the briefing, Bobby came to a landing next to him. Ending the call, Eli turned to look at the blazing building, saying, "We need to sweep the building one last time, but the floors are beginning to give and the fire is threatening the neighboring buildings."

Nodding in understanding, the young man explained, "You need to make sure that there's no one inside before you smother the place." Looking around, he spotted a firefighter being treated for smoke inhalation. "Sir, I need your suit."

The firefighter looked up in confusion, recognizing Bobby in his costume. "Aren't you invulnerable?" the rescuer wondered.

With a shrug, Bobby explained, "I've never purposely lit myself on fire to test that, sir. Now seems like a bad time for a test." The last was said conspiratorially, which got a smile out of the trained professional.

Putting on the fire-resistant suit, Bobby was helped into a breathing device and hovered over the ground as he ventured into the building. Eli connected with his phone again, providing verbal directions. In the background he could hear a man shouting that his ex-wife and kids hadn't come out yet. With a firm resolve, Bobby moved through the building, trying to listen past his own breathing, the crackling of the flames, and the groans of the building.

'What was that?' he asked himself, turning in an attempt to locate the sound. There it was again, someone coughing weakly. He followed the noise and located a bathroom. Opening the door he saw that someone had turned the shower on and used the spray to wet down blankets, under which the person was trying to escape the flames. It was an old cast-iron bathtub, and it was likely that the metal was becoming hot.

"I'm coming out, watch out," the young man warned.

Grabbing hold of the tub, Bobby ripped it from the floor, taking most of the floor with him, and flew backwards, trusting in the weakened wood to give way as he flew through the bathroom wall and out the bedroom window.

He heard gasps and cries of surprise as he made the grand exit.

Bringing the tub to the paramedics, he warned, "The metal may still be hot."

The trained professionals pulled back the blankets to find two children, a boy of 10 and a girl of 7, coughing fitfully as they stared up in surprise. Kicking off again, Bobby headed back towards the building as he listened to the relieved father crying, "Jason, Stacy, thank God. Where's your mother?"

"She was on fire," the girl gasped between sobs.

"She was smoking in bed again," the boy answered.

Someone caught Bobby's boot and the young man looked to see Eli trying to pull him back to the ground. "It's no good, Bobby," the man told him.

Inside, one of the floors collapsed completely, taking out the one beneath it before coming to rest on a third floor. With a nod, Bobby landed, watching as the firefighters gave up on rescue and focused on protecting the surrounding buildings.

"I should have called you in sooner," Eli sighed.

Bobby frowned, looking up, and wondered aloud, "Some people will say that, sir. Others will say that you never should have called me at all. Truth be told, both and neither are right."

"You sound like your dad," the man sighed.

Bobby felt someone tug on his arm, and again looked down, this time at the seven year-old who he'd rescued minutes before. He knelt so that he was on eye-level with the little lady, saying, "Hi, I'm Bobby."

"I'm Stacy," the girl responded shyly. "Thank you for saving me and Jason."

"I'm sorry about your mom," he offered.

Tears started to form in her eyes, and the young man leaned forward to hug the child. She started bawling, and hugged him back until her father came over to get her. "That's right, it's okay to cry," he told her.

Bobby turned away, telling his father's former partner, "I'd better get back to school, Chief. My report will be your desk this afternoon."

"Thanks, Wonder Boy," Eli shot back as he turned to face the media that had been gathering at the baracades.

Mary Bromfield was on cloud nine!

She walked down the street, holding hands with her boyfriend, Bobby Trevor, as they stepped out of the movie theater. It had been a cute romantic comedy, but the real highlight had been when her boyfriend had put his arm over her shoulder. Mary had looked up at him to playfully tell him not to push it, and his lips had been right there. It was only natural to kiss at that moment, and the moment had been electric for the both of them.

Kissing him had made her heart pound in her chest, and putting her hand against his chest she felt his heart beating just as hard and fast. She was in love, Mary realized with a start, and he loved her just as much. When she got home she'd tell her parents that she did not want to become the reincarnation of Isis. Her father would be furious, but her mother would back her. The resurrection of Teth-Adam could wait for another generation.

Behind them Mary's friends were gossiping like hens. Still under the stipulation that she couldn't date Bobby one on one, she'd brought along two of her friends and they'd brought their boyfriends. After the moment she and Bobby had shared Mary couldn't make herself take interest in what the other girls were saying.

They stopped under a lamp post, and Bobby blushed cutely as he stammered, "About what happened, in the theater."

Putting a finger to his lips to keep him from going on, Mary tilted her head slightly, and Bobby seemed to read her mind as he leaned in for another kiss. It was just as soft, just as sweet, just as electrifying, as the one they'd shared just a quarter-hour before. The moment was so perfect that she lifted her right leg at the knee, in the classic pose of a girl head over heels in love.

There was a roar from across the street, and a small car flew past them, smashing through the window of a bridal boutique behind the couple.

Both she and Bobby turned to see a man stepping out of the shadows wearing an armored battle suit like the one Vincent Harper had worn the last time he'd come to face Wonder Boy. In this case the entire head was covered in a black helmet that left nothing of the wearer. The person was joined by five others wearing similar armor, but modified with swords and shotguns and assault rifles.

"Mary," Bobby said, pushing her to arms distance, "I need you to get out of here right now!"

She saw the stars on his power shackle light up as he faced the half dozen juiced up mercenaries. The forward most soldier stepped forward and removed his faceplate, and Vincent Harper stared murderously at Mary. "How could you, Mary, that little shit is nothing more than a pretty boy playing dress-up."

"You're the one playing dress-up, Harper," Mary spouted back venomously. "Why can't you get it through that thick skull of yours that I've never wanted anything to do with you? Why do you delude yourself into thinking you can impress me through sports and bullying? You destroy everything you touch – yourself, your football team, the school, this town." The last she emphasized by gesturing towards the storefront he'd just smashed open.

"Mary," Bobby warned. "This isn't the time or place, love."

The pet name caught her attention, and she smiled radiantly at the way it had so naturally rolled off his tongue.

Vincent's face had been murderous before, but it now held a light of madness as he put the mask of his helmet back on. "Come on, Wonder Boy, put on your spare bracer and change into your costume – I don't want there to be any doubt when I beat you into submission."

Bobby growled, pulling his backpack off and pulling the spare bracer from the bag. He pulled off his shirt and snapped the bracer to his right arm, over the forearm length sleeve of his costume. Pulling a t-shirt off, Mary watched the muscles of his chest flexing with her heart beating to a different beat than it had before. Dropping his pants revealed that he was wearing the leggings of his costume under his street clothes. He buckled the greaves over his shins and a pocketed red utility belt went around his waist.

Looking around, Mary realized why he'd made such a production out of changing; it was to give the townsfolk time to evacuate. Mary herself backed into an alley where she could watch what was going to happen next. Something about this situation seemed familiar, but she wasn't sure what it was.

For all his training, Bobby knew that he was in trouble. It had been a couple months since Vincent Harper had gone missing while on his way to the hospital. Weekly training sessions with Wonder Woman still hadn't made him ready to fight six heavily armed mercenaries, all of whom matched his strength.

Pushing past his insecurities the young man focused on what he'd learned, the first being that strength didn't guarantee traction. One of the mercenaries had a weighted rope as part of his arsenal of weapons, and he tried to use it as an opening gambit. Bobby grabbed the rope and used his flight powers to root himself on the spot, pulling with his equal strength. The armored person was pulled off his feet, and Bobby palm-struck the man on the head. He heard the helmet armor pop, and the person fell to the ground, the faceplate coming off to reveal the face of a woman!

The others pulled their own weapons, suddenly not so certain that their superior numbers meant anything close to an easy victory.

"I don't suppose any of you would be willing to just walk away," Bobby inquired hopefully.

His opponents responded by fanning out, getting ready to come at him from different angles.

Bobby picked the one with the most ranged weapons and rushed forward, low and fast, coming in under the man's guard. Toxin gave the man strength, but speed as a matter of perception and reflex – the man's focus was range, where time could be taken. Flying between the armored figures legs Bobby grabbed his opponent by the ankle and swung the man around, bouncing him off the asphalt before turning to face the others.

With knifes and swords and weapons that the young man didn't know the name of, the young hero known as Wonder Boy was pressed back. The three remaining 'band' members were all experts at hand to hand, and they'd been working together for years. Bobby was in a bad way, so he retreated, tapping his earpiece.

"Calling all teen heroes," he said, using the code phrase that he and the others had worked out. It was supposed to be the way that Tim or Courtney called for him, not the other way around.

That said, he picked the closest opponent and leapt in, grasping the person's wrist and twisting. Executing a cartwheel, the mercenary managed to keep the weapon, lashing out with a kick. Bobby back peddled, kicking off into a glide, only to have another mercenary try to leap on top of him. Grabbing the man and doing a barrel roll, Wonder Boy sent the armored person into a parked car, cringing as the driver's side door buckled and folded around the juicer.

Coming up, Bobby saw that the first two mercenaries he'd downed had rejoined their comrades. The one with the rifles was taking aim. Focusing, the young man prepared to either deflect or dodge wishing that Wonder Woman had gotten around to training him in the arrows and bracers technique. Just before the man pulled the trigger the rifle was struck by an arrow with some kind of putty on the front. The putty exploded, taking the weapon with it.

Everyone looked up to see a man wearing a red costume taking aim with a bow.

Down the street a fire hydrant exploded, but rather than just spraying into the air the water curled around a man about the same age wearing a blue and black costume.

"Hey, dweebs," a girls voice called out, and a girl in a patriotic costume carrying golden staff hovered lower. "You should know, when you pick on one teen hero, you get all of us!"

"You're four against six," Vincent barked back.

"Five," another voice called out; a teen wearing red, green, yellow and black. He vaulted over Vincent, using the older teen as a parallel bar and executing a midair spin.

"I think we all need to learn how to count," a grand voice added, and a man in a red costume with a gold lightning bolt on the front panel joined the conversation.

"Five teens and a man dressed like a cheese wheel," Vincent scoffed. "If you want to make your humiliation complete, then so be it."

The last was sent as a roar as the older teen sprinted forward for Bobby, doing a roll to avoid Robin's staff.

Mary felt her heart go cold as she realized what was happening. She remembered her father planning with a group of five men and women, telling them, "If we can't get Captain Marvel alone then we'll have to draw him out. If we threaten a hero in or near Faucett city, then the usurper will show up just to aid his friend."

It had been a backup plan, an 'if worse came to worse' kind of plan, she'd never expected her father to actually use it, but if he was . . . If he was, then it meant that the ritual was ready, Teth-Adam's resurrection was at hand. Her time as a teenage girl was up.

Strong hands grabbed Mary from behind, pulling her into an armored chest. "Don't struggle," a female voice ordered, "Your father's gone to a lot of trouble to make this happen."

"LET ME GO," Mary screamed as a seventh armored figure sprinted out of the alley she'd escaped down just minutes before.

"MARY," Bobby shouted, turning away from Vincent Harper to go after her. He received a punch to the jaw for his distraction and found himself facing Vincent and another armored figure.

"Bobby," Captain Marvel called out, swooping in to help.

"No, I've got this," the young man called back. "Go after Mary, she's being abducted."

Two on one wasn't the best odds, but Bobby threw himself into it, desperate to end the fight. It had surprised him at how natural it was to call Mary 'love', how true it felt. He was in love with her, and he focused that truth into his actions, let it guide his feints and strikes, let it give strength to his blocks and turns. 'I'm coming for you, Mary', was his only though.

The mercenary rushed through the forest, dodging trees that were coming way too fast. Mary was reminded of one of her favorite books, but unlike the heroine in that story she wasn't being carried by the truest of true loves, but by one of her father's hired strong-arms.

"Let me go," she ordered, drumming her fists uselessly against the figure's armor.

As if the person were actually following her order the woman dropped Mary, pressing a pendant into Mary's hand. The tradeoff had just been finished when a red blur terminated next to the mercenary, and the black armored figure went flying off into the woods. She looked up at the usurper of the God-King's power, her eyes filling with tears as she did what she'd been raised to do for the past eight years.

Captain Marvel was saying, "Are you alright, miss?"

"SHAZAM!" she called out, pressing the pendant to the man's chest.

Out of the clear sky a lightning bolt came crashing to earth, striking both of them.

Mary found herself floating over the clearing, for a moment thinking she'd had an out of body experience. Beneath her a boy wearing a red sweater and blue jeans struggled to his feet, looking up in astonishment. She looked him in the eye and knew that he was having the same thought that she was.

A sense of betrayal filled her, both the anger of being betrayed and the horror of betraying someone else. She turned away, and flew towards her house, going to confront her father for the lies he'd told her. "Billy," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

As if on a predetermined signal the five remaining mercenaries abandoned the fight, moving with a speed that only Stargirl and Bobby himself could match. "Let them go," Bobby called after the star-spangled kid. "We need to make sure that no one was hurt."

The throw down had destroyed storefronts and ignited gas lines, and the young man knew that Mary hadn't been the only one who'd stayed to watch the fight.

"We've got this," Robin called out. "Go after Mary."

Bobby looked to the others, getting their nods, and then he was off. In the fog of the fight he'd lost track of time, but he knew that it hadn't been that long. He'd heard the boom of thunder, it had been the signal the mercenaries had used to coordinate their withdrawal. The lightning strike had been in the direction the last mercenary had taken Mary, and he headed that way, hoping to catch up with Captain Marvel.

The bolt had knocked down trees on the edge of a clearing in the middle of which a teenage boy Mary's age was standing looking shocked. Bobby landed and asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the teen stammered. "They went that way."

He pointed off, and Bobby kicked off, looking back to ask, "Are you coming, or do you need more time to power up?"

The look of astonishment was the only answer that Wonder Boy needed as he flew off to find his girlfriend. In the distance a second bolt of lightning came crashing out of the clear sky.

Landing at the external doors to the basement, Mary tore them from their hinges in her anger, stalking into the space looking for answers. She'd been transformed by the magical bolt of energy, but not as much as her brother was. Instead of becoming an adult she'd aged about five years and was now wearing a white costume with a skirt and a gold lightning bolt down the front.

Her adopted father was wearing a loincloth, and was covered in a blue-gray paste making arcane symbols across his flesh.

"Ah, Mary, or should I call you Mary Marvel?" he mused, turning to face her.

She moved forward and noticed that the sarcophagus was open, that one of the mummy's arms had been removed. Her eyes noted the grinding stone next to the caldron that contained the enhanced Toxin, which was now the same blue gray as the lines on her adopted father's body.

With a shake of her head she focused on the main issue: "You lied to me, you told me that my parents and my brother died in Egypt!"

He smirked, turning to face her. "Yes, I was surprised that your little brother managed to survive my trap, but I assure you – your parents are dead."

"You bastard," Mary cried, rushing forward.

"SHAZAM!" Theo Adams called out while pressing a second talisman to her chest.

Bobby saw the torn doors that led to the basement of the Bromfield Estate lodged in trees, and landed next to the stairs. After a moment of confusion, he took the first step only to be knocked backward. Hitting the ground, he recovered, and looked into the night sky to see Captain Marvel hovering over him wearing a black costume instead of red.

"You're not Captain Marvel," Bobby noted.

"No, I am his better, the true embodiment of the six gods," the man growled back.

"So what do I call you? Colonel Marvel? Black Marvel?" the young man inquired.

With a smirk, the being answered, "You may call me your Master, but the name under which I will rule is Black Adam, the first man of a new Genesis."

"I read Genesis, good book," Wonder Boy responded as he kicked off to hover in front of Black Adam. "But in the War of Heaven it was determined that mankind would have the freedom to chose which consequences best suited them. I choose to have no master but my own conscious."

"That suits me," the being in black crowed, "Because when the new day dawns, Mary will be my queen, and you will be relegated to an object lesson on the futility of denying my reign."

Black Adam came at him, and Bobby quickly realized that this new villain was in a different league all together. Faster, stronger, tougher, Wonder Boy was sent back to the ground hard, skipping across the ground before coming to a stop against a tree. The disks in his bracer spun faster, and his body heeled almost instantly. Still, he knew that attacking again would be more of the same.

A red blur intersected the black, sending the villain tumbling.

"I know not how you came by your power, black marvel, but the power of the Six Gods is not to be trifled with," Captain Marvel called out as his opponent recovered.

"Ah, Billy," Black Adam laughed. "You look so much like your father."

The blood drained from the hero's face, followed by a flush of anger. "Theo Adams, you murderer."

Bobby looked at the man in horror, realizing that Black Adam was Theo Adams-Bromfield, Mary's foster dad.

Without any quarter given the two marvels squared off in a slug-match of godly proportions. Bobby watched with awe.

"Bobby," Mary cried out, coming out of the basement.

Seeing her, the young man leapt to her side and folded her in his arms. "Mary, thank God; are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she sighed, hugging him back. Looking up into the sky she gasped, "We have to stop them. Bobby, they share powers, they are complete equals, their battle will rage for all eternity."

Nodding, Bobby stepped away and with a wink he told her, "I'll be right back."

"Bobby, he's my brother, Captain Marvel, he's my twin brother."

That surprised the young man, but with a lopsided grin he quipped; "Now we're ripping off Star Wars."

He kicked off to join the fight he knew that he couldn't compete in power, so he focused on harrying moves. Strike, retreat, let Captain Marvel get the monster of a man's attention, strike, retreat. Bobby caught the man in a full nelson and cursed, "You don't deserve this power, you are weak and stupid, and you have bad breath!"

"You little bug," Black Adam cursed. "I am the God-king of the new Genesis; I am the true wielder of the power of SHAZAM!"

Theo went ridged in Bobby's arms as Captain Marvel called out, "Bobby, get clear!"

Just as suddenly as he'd gone ridged, the man was struggling to escape. A lightning bolt came crashing down from the clear night sky, and looking up Bobby realized that if he let go Black Adam would manage to get out of the way, but there was no way that he, Bobby, was fast enough. "No," he said, closing his eyes.

Watching from a distance, Vincent Harper knew that the heroes were too busy to notice him. He'd heard the big red cheese guy calling out Mr. Bromfield's name, and knew that his employer was getting his butt handed to him by Captain Marvel and Wonder Boy, but he didn't really know what all was going on.

His allies, the six warrior-women Theo Adams-Bromfield had hired and equipped with external toxin pumps, had left, saying that their contract was complete. Their job hadn't been to back him up while he took down Wonder Boy, but to ensure that the little shit called for help, drawing out Captain Marvel. After that they were to separate Captain Marvel from any other heroes who answered the call by taking Mary hostage. With their contract fulfilled, the six had left Vincent with the realization that he'd been played, yet again.

Well, he wasn't going to let that slide.

Slipping into the basement he started grabbing anything that looked of value. One corner of the room was occupied by the contents of an Egyptian crypt, and he filled a bag with gold and jewels. A table held all kinds of weird talismans, one of them a pentagram of silver wire with four rubies like eyes. Grabbing that and anything else he could get his hands on, the teen stuffed the bag and headed out.

He'd stop by the lab, pick up some extra Toxin before heading to NYC. With his powers, and without Wonder Boy to get in his way, Vincent figured he could find work with a crime boss, work his way up an organization in a couple years time. By the time the losers on the football team were graduating college Vincent thought he'd own the entire eastern seaboard.

Mary felt her heart stopped as the magical bolt of lightning struck her boyfriend and her foster dad. In the flash she saw the pair thrown in different directions. She wasn't sure which was which, so she ran towards the closer of the two only to find Theo laying on the ground groaning in pain, but alive. Captain Marvel landed next to her, placing a hand over the man's chest.

"He'll live to answer for his crimes," her brother announced. "The power of the Six Gods protected him."

"Bobby," the girl gasped, turning and running across the estate grounds to the gazebo in the rose garden.

The whitewashed wood had been shattered, and half collapsed. She pulled the wood away, getting splinters in her hands as she dug. Bobby was lying in a crater, looking like a broken marionette. His suit was torn in multiple places, the star on the chest completely burned off, and on his left forearm the bracer had been pealed partially away. Three shattered disks of primary colored crystal were exposed, along with a blue liquid that was leaking out of the space where the disks had been encased.

"Bobby?" she called out, tears coming to her eyes as she knelt next to him. "Bobby? Bobby! BOBBY!"

End Chapter Four: Loss

End Part I: Reluctant . . .

From LeoN: I hope that you all enjoyed the first part of my story. The rough draft for Part 2 is done, but I'm still ironing out a few story points. Please, keep the comments coming, both positive and negative: both help me grow as a writer.


	5. Balance

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction set in the DC Animated Universe, and certain characters are copyrights of DC Comics. These characters are used without the consent of DC, but no money is being generated from the posting of this story. If another author wants to use characters or events from this story in their own please ask me first – maybe we can coordinate interlocking stories?

Wonder Boy – Part II: Powerless

Chapter Five: Balance

Most people thought of it as the West Brook High School, even though the sign outside read 'Eugene Gottfried Memorial High School'. Barely a year old, the school had been built using funds left to the city as part of 'old man Gottfried's' last will and testament. All of the equipment was state-of-the-art, but that didn't mean anything to the students on the day in question.

An anticipatory hush had fallen over the student body as half of them watched the clock ticking away while the other half tried to ignore the hands moving across the face. They came to school that day counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds . . .

The last bell of the school year was drowned out by the cry of joy from the student body as they abandoned all pretenses and streamed for the door. All but one student, that was. Sitting up front, Robert Trevor-Barnes had actually managed to sleep through the racket, something that the teacher, Mr. Birdie, knew the boy didn't do often enough.

Ever since the incident just before Christmas the boy hadn't been the same. Once the media darling known as Wonder Boy, the world had been using Robert as an exemplar for other teen superheroes, going so far as to dub him 'The Promise of Tomorrow'. That promise was broken now – in an event that still wasn't completely understood by most of the town, Wonder Boy had sacrificed himself to stop a threat who called himself 'Black Adam': a being of such immense power that he was equal to, or greater than, the sum of the Justice League.

Or so the tale went.

Regardless, Robert had lost his powers, and much more besides. After months of physical therapy, the most the boy could manage was a slow walk with the aid of a cane. If he tried to go any faster he'd get dizzy, and if he tried to climb stairs too fast he would vomit or pass out. Where once he'd been averaging 5 hours of sleep a night, walking up feeling like he'd downed a pot of coffee in one gulp, he now had fits of insomnia followed by sleeping spells that could last days. His grades had slipped throughout the year, from A's to B's to hover around the C mark, as his physical limitations and messed up sleep cycle weighed down on the boy's once bright spirit.

Honestly, Mr. Birdie was amazed that the boy never gave up the entire year.

A young woman entered his classroom, an expected visitor. Mary Bromfield was a lovely young woman, the adopted daughter of Nora Bromfield, who was once again single after divorcing her husband of seven years, Theo Adams, for undisclosed reasons. The entire town had known that she and Robert had been an item at one time, and the water cooler gossip had been that the pair were slowly drawing close to being truly serious – marriage serious – but that had changed along with the young man's status as a hero. While they were still close friends, Robert had been slowly pushing Mary away, not wanting to drag her down with his handicaps.

One year Robert's junior, the Bromfield girl had brown hair and green eyes, and was passing through the adolescent phase of her growth. Mr. Birdie refused to even think of his students as 'pretty', but Mary had a sense of wholesomeness that most boys found both comforting and intimidating. She was athletic, the star player of the tennis team as a Sophomore and had chosen to go to public school rather than the private schools her intellect and family fortune deserved.

"He's asleep," Mary sighed as she went over and gathered up her friend's backpack. "Do you know if he cleaned out his locker, Mr. Birdie?"

"I'm pretty sure he did," the man answered.

"Bobby," the young woman shook his shoulder. "Bobby, wake up."

With a groan he opened his eyes, and then started awake as if coming out of a dream of falling. The teacher had seen that motion from Robert several times over the last semester. Getting his breathing under control, Robert sat up and looked around.

"I slept through the bell," he muttered, mostly too himself. Using his cane and the desk to help himself up, the young man admonished, "You didn't have to come get me, Mary."

There was affection in his tone, so the young heiress didn't bite a retort, instead saying, "Well, I'm not going to be here next year to look after you, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright one last time."

Mary and her mother were planning to move to Faucett City, in Illinois, presumably so that Mary could be closer to a branch of her biological family that had been uncovered recently.

"Well, thank you," the boy cheered, hobbling towards the door. "We'd better get going or my mom is going to start worrying."

Vincent Harper crushed a multivitamin and dumped the contents onto his blender. The nutritional supplement he had to take every few hours was deceptively simple. A multivitamin, baby food, protein, half-and-half for thickness, and a little Toxin for kick. He'd rung the formula from one of the scientists at the lab, taking as much of the super-performance enhancer as he could carry.

Traveling to NYC, he'd had an easy time finding work with one of the families that ran the town. As he was still a person of interest in Wonder Boy's depowering, Vin hand to keep a low profile. He'd been set up in a sprawling bomb shelter from the Kuwaiti Oil Conflict back in the '70s, or something like that. With some furniture and a few trophies he felt more at home underground than he'd ever felt in his father's house. Vin would go clubbing at night, as the mafia he was working with only called him out when extreme force was required.

As powerful as he was though, years of leading a football team had taught Vin that one man wasn't enough, so he'd started recruiting. Meta humans were rare, but altered humans, like himself, were even rarer. He'd found a meta human with the fairly useless power to see in complete darkness, another who could cough up a toxic gas, and another who could hit two targets with a single gunshot. 'Talent scouts' had been sent to every gang in the five boroughs, looking for others with powers.

In time, Vin would have his own gang of super powered toughs, all of whom would be loyal to him alone. When that day came, all the families would be brought under his control, and from there, the Atlantic seaboard, and then inland. His plans were set, and he was working towards them with a singular purpose. Since Wonder Boy had been taken from the scene there was nothing to stop Vin from getting everything he deserved.

His only regret was that he'd not been the one to teach Robert Trevor the lesson of humility.

***Yes, I know that it was the Cuban Missile Crisis in the 60's, but Vincent was never a good student and constantly mixes up historical and current events***

The car pulled up to the house, and Bobby climbed out, saying goodbye to his friend one last time. He was happy for his former girlfriend – she'd found her long lost twin, Billy Batson, after years of thinking that he'd died in the same trap as her parents. With her "Goodbye" he headed to the front steps and took them slowly so as not to vomit in the waves of dizziness that washed over him with each change in altitude. He didn't want Mary's last memory of him to be one of weakness, even though they were over as a couple.

He stepped inside, calling out, "I'm home!"

Since the hotel in town had burnt down the massive ancestral home of the Gottfried family and been doing decent business as a bed-and-breakfast. He knew that some of the guests had come to see him, morbid curiosity, he supposed, but they stayed because of the work his mom and step-dad were doing. Hiking, horseback riding and bicycle trails had been cut into the massive tracks of forest that had come with the house, and several cabins were being built at the nearby lake so outdoor enthusiasts to get the full experience of the Catskills Mountains.

With the place so busy his parents had hired help – some cooks and a few live maids to change linens and the like. Before all of this the normal gathering place had been the kitchen, but now it was one of the seldom used side room. Samantha Barnes, Bobby's mom, was in her 9th month of pregnancy, and had almost miscarried twice; she was supposed to be taking it easy. As he approached the room he heard voices and knew that she was entertaining a guest.

Raised to believe that it was impolite to ignore a guest, Bobby pushed the door open to find that there were two guests, both people he knew from what felt like a lifetime before. Michael Holt was a gold medal Olympian and held 14 doctorates, according to him he had a natural affinity for natural affinities, but publicly he was known as 'Mr. Terrific'. Wearing motorcycle clothes and a 'T' shaped mask he would have looked tougher if the sleeves of his jacket hadn't read 'Fair Play'. He was standing to one side as his mom talked with their other guest – Princess Diana of Themyscira, known to most as Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman had the body of an underwear model, the breasts of a porn star, and the fashion sense of her people – a one piece, star-spangled-blue bottom and red topped, sleeveless swimsuit with a gold-like double-W across her breasts, one inch heeled red boots with a white stripe down the front, a pair of metal bracers and a golden tiara. On her waist she wore the Lasso of Truth, or the Lariat of Hestia to her people. The bracers had been made from shards of Zeus' shield, Aegis, and were impenetrable, while the tiara had been made from one of Apollo's discus, and returned when thrown.

He knew that the outfit was the basis for the battle armor worn by her people and had schooled himself not to gawk at her.

"Princess," Bobby cheered, bowing as best he could. "What brings you here?"

The woman smiled back, but let his mom answer, "Diana came to invite you to see Themyscira, Robert."

"Oh?" he wondered. "I thought that we were going to stay here this summer? What about the hotel and the guests?"

An awkward pause was filled by Wonder Woman explaining, "The invitation is for you alone, Bobby. I've been thinking that your injury may have been caused by magic, requiring a magical solution – Themyscira has the best healers in the world."

"It's a tempting offer," he replied, considering spending the summer on an island in the Aegean Sea full of beautiful women who all had a poor opinion of men to begin with. Then again, if he didn't go then he would have to spend the summer hiding out in his room, staying out of the way of the customers. "Yea, I guess," he answered. "I mean, if you think these healers can help . . ."

Wonder Woman was beaming as she stood and came up to give Bobby a hug. "You're going to love Paradise Island," she cheered. "I can't wait to introduce you to my little sister: she's going to love you."

Everyone looked at the woman in a sidelong way, and then burst into laughter.

At Diana's confused look, Samantha explained, "You sound like you're trying to setup Robert with your sister – setting them up on a date, that is."

Blushing, the heroine announced, "That is not my intention."

That made people laugh, again.

Getting himself under control, Bobby asked, "So how are we going to get there, and when do we leave?"

"We'll be taking a Javelin," she explained, "and we leave as soon as you can get your clothes in order. About a weeks' worth should do."

Michael Holt helped Robert strap into the seat and then pressed a syringe into the boy's offered arm. With a medical doctorate under his belt the man was completely lost as to the nature of the boy's injuries. What was known was that the boy would respond poorly to the speed and change of altitude, so he was going to spend the trip in a shallow coma. Michael wasn't allowed to step onto the island, but he'd been given permission to stay on the plane while his passengers disembarked.

Diana came forward after stowing the boy's duffle bag, taking the copilot's seat and running through the preflight checklist.

Robert's heartbeat started increasing, which concerned the hero. "Robert, what's wrong?"

"I don't . . . I don't want to fall asleep . . ." he gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he passed out, his heart rate returning to normal.

When he was sure that the boy was completely under Michael moved forward and went through his checklist. He made sure the settings were for a vertical takeoff and then pushed the throttle up. The man knew the exact specifications of the aero-space craft, so he knew when there was a problem. Checking the reading he saw that the weight within the ship was increasing!

Pushing the throttle to full, the ship finally left the ground and started angling towards the Atlantic. He felt sweat beading on his forehead, at first thinking that it was the odd liftoff, but then Diana noted, "Is something wrong with the environmental controls?"

Looking at the readouts he realized that the internal temperature was reaching 100 degrees and the pressure was increasing, too. It made no sense, unless . . .

He looked back to see the boy pressed into his seat as if the inertial dampers weren't working, the air around him shimmering with heat deflection. The boy was also exhaling, one long breath that didn't seem to stop, followed by a gasp that was too short for the amount of air he breathed out. Diana looked back too, and made adjustments to the internal controls. He saw that she'd opened the vents, allowing the additional pressure and heat to bleed off. Increasing the inertial dampers decreased the amount of weight the boy had put on, but it made the cabin otherwise weightless as they crossed over the European continent.

Diana took over, piloting the aircraft towards the island that was mystically shielded from sight. She landed the plane and went to check on her former protégé, a counterpart that she was hoping to get back. Looking at the readouts he saw that the boy was shedding weight, cooling, and he finally took in a deep breath. It was really creepy.

Three Amazonians came in, an adult and two teenage girls. One teenager had black hair and blue eyes and the body of a fitness model; she looked to be about 18 or 19. Her friend was blonde, green eyed, but not as fit as her friend; perhaps 15 or 16.

The brunette looked down at the sleeping teen and snorted. "I've seen enough," she announced.

"But he's not even awake," the blonde responded. "You have to give him a chance. You promised, Donna."

'Donna' sighed, and looked to Wonder Woman. "Hello, sister," Donna said, smiling shyly.

Diana moved forward and gave the young woman a hug. "It's good to see you again, Donna. How has your training been going?"

"It's been going well," Donna offered, smiling in satisfaction of the attention she was getting. "Mother says that it won't be long before I undergo the Ceremony of Sisterhood and become an immortal."

"That's wonderful, Donna; I'm so proud of you. Who is your friend?" Diana asked, and Michael just barely noticed the flash of annoyance.

It was gone in an instant, and the young woman said, "Sister, I'd like to introduce you to Cassandra Sandsmark. Cassandra's mother, Helena, was invited to Themyscira to learn the truth behind the slivers of history they have."

"I'm glad that you're making friends, Donna," Diana enthused. "As the ambassador for our people it's encouraging to have you making friends with those from the world of men."

The brunette teen beamed, and reached out to take Cassandra's hand in a friendly way. "Cassandra, I would like you to meet my sister, Princess Diana."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Princess," the blonde said with a curtsey. The girl must have seen Michael's confused look, because she explained, "Donna is one of the 'Foundlings', orphans or runaways that find themselves magically transported here. She's being trained by Queen Hippolyta, making her Wonder Woman's adopted sister."

"Ah," he responded, working it out in his mind before smiling. He reached out a hand to Donna, saying, "I'm Michael Holt, Mr. Terrific when in costume."

Donna looked at his hand as if it were diseased, and for a moment he thought that it was because he was black. The girl commented, "My mother once dated a Chippendale who called himself Mr. Terrific."

"Uh," Michael stammered, not sure how to take that.

"You must forgive her, Michael," Diana soothed. "Most women of this island were abused by men at one point or another in their lives."

"And you want Robert to hang out here all summer?" he wondered.

The brunette scoffed, "The ancestor of Antipole has nothing to fear from the Amazons of Themyscira."

His mind put more pieces together: Antipole, first Queen of the Amazons, sister of Hippolyta, wife of Theseus, mother of Hippolytus. After the wrongful death of her son she declared war on her husband and led a group of Amazons to their deaths. While the Greek legends stated that Hippolytus died being dragged behind his chariot, the Roman legends stated that he'd survived with the help of Artemis, his patron. In Rome he eventually married, but there was no mention in that legend to any children he'd sired. The women of the island seemed to be under the impression that Robert Trevor-Barnes was a distant descendant to their lost Queen.

The Amazonian medic called the girls over, and together they pulled him out of the seat, an arm over each shoulder. "Oof, he's heavy," Cassandra remarked. His toes dragged along the ground as they moved him to a stretcher. Two warrior women tried to lift the litter, but they were unable to lift the boy from the ground. When they failed they were joined by two others, and then two more. It took all six of them to lift the boy off the ground, and his exhales became longer than his inhales.

"Thank you, Michael," Diana said, turning his attention away from the medical curiosity. "I'll contact the League in a week, and keep them apprised of any change in Bobby's medical condition."

"Do you really think that 'magic' is the answer?" he asked, shaking her hand.

"Yes – that little display at the ramp and the events getting here prove that. I have a suspicion, but I'll wait until the healers can confer until I voice it," the Amazon Princess answered. "Take care, 'Mr. Terrific'."

He chuckled, and moved back to the pilot's seat as she gathered the luggage and followed her former, and perhaps future, protégé to a hopeful answer.

Cassie Sandsmark was a little disappointed. She'd spent the school year at the Elias School for Girls, an all girls boarding school, and then her mother had announced that they would be spending the summer on Paradise Island, the home of the Amazons, and in the fall she'd be going back to her boarding school. It would mean that she would go for more than a year without seeing a boy. Then she'd heard that Robert Trevor, Wonder Boy himself, would be visiting the island as well.

Like most girls her age she'd followed the exploits of Wonder Boy on the internet, secretly dreaming of being his girlfriend. The news of his depowerment had been a disappointment. News had become sketchy after that, but she'd never thought that it would be so bad. He was pale, his brown hair was lanky and dull, he was obviously sick, and listening to his long exhales was just creepy.

"I don't get it," she confessed to Donna, the older girl who'd been her guide for the day, "How come we could carry Robert, and they need six warriors to do the same?"

Donna shook her head and answered, "I don't know, Cassandra; I thought that it was some trick of Man's World."

She shook her head in return.

Donna was cool, even for a college-aged girl. From what Cassie could figure the older girl had run away from home when she'd been six or seven years old. The girl had found her way to the island while running away from a pimp who wanted to turn her into a child prostitute. Turning one alley corner she'd been mystically transported to Paradise Island. Her plight had tugged at the heartstrings of the Amazons, many of them wanting to adopt her, to train her as a warrior. An argument had actually broken out, and the Queen had finally stepped in to claim Donna as her daughter rather than let hostilities break out.

The warriors took the young man to a temple dedicated to Hermes, god of Thieves, Travelers and Medicine. He was the one male god allowed to come to the island, though his was the smallest, most out of the way temple of the six. Robert was laid on a table and a medic began to examine him.

"The drug that is suppressing his mind is still active?" the medic asked, lifting his eyelids to check for pupil dilation.

"Yes, it should work for another hour or so," Princess Diana remarked, going to stand on the boy's other side.

Humming in consideration, the medic, "That's Alexis, she's one of the original Amazons", Donna offered helpfully, retrieved a strange device from the corner. Alexis blew dust from the device and with Diana's help it was positioned over Robert's chest. On the bottom of the device there was a small needle, which they used to prick the boy's skin.

The top of the device had a five sided, five-colored star in the center of a grid pattern that made it look like a scale. When the pin broke the skin three of the colored arms shot to the edge of the scale – red, yellow and blue – the primary colors. A green crystal didn't move while the clear one moved about a quarter of the way up the scale. Cassie wasn't the only one who was surprised by the violent movement of the three crystals, but Alexis seemed more interested in the green crystal that hadn't moved.

Placing her finger on the crystal, she moved it to the edge of the scale and let go to watch it snap back to center.

What was really strange was that Diana seemed relieved by this response.

"Do all men have such weak water elemental affinity?" Alexis wondered.

"Not weak," Diana answered, "suppressed. Dr. Fate, the sorcerer Nabu," the second name made the medic's eyes grow wide, "identified his Power Shackle as being powered by three major Elementals – Fire, Earth and Air. He mused that if the Elementals were ever released they could cause a simultaneous earthquake, wild fire and tornado, destroying everything for hundreds of miles."

"Nothing like that happened," Cassie pointed out. A major catastrophe like that would have been reported. It probably also would have destroyed the school she'd been living at!

The Princess nodded, stating, "The only explanation is that the Elementals found another vessel. Released from the bracer, they were drawn into Bobby, a willing sacrifice in order to prevent the deaths and destruction that they would have caused. They've suppressed his water affinity, and hampering his ether." She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, a fond gesture.

Curious, the young blonde wondered, "What does the Water Element do?"

Turning to address her directly, Wonder Woman explained, "Water Elements are powerful beings, older than the Titans, but the water affinity is a person's ability to find balance."

Another voice interjected, "Water Elementals are ever changing and difficult to control, but they are also nurturing, the womb in which all nonhuman life was created. I am not surprised that Doctor Gottfried was unable to harness its power in the culmination of his studies. He tried to compensate with power over balance."

The speaker was Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Diana and Donna's mother. Unlike her daughters, the Queen had blonde hair, but like her daughters she had the body of a fitness model. Behind the Amazon came Cassie's mom, Helena, who was taking photos of everything and making notes like crazy.

Helena Sandsmark was a historian of ancient Greece and Rome, and was one of half a dozen women scientists who'd been invited to tour the island where ancient Greece wasn't just a collection of myths. Cassie's mother seemed to realize that something more than a tour was going on and stopped taking photos.

"Daughter," the queen said, nodding to her daughter in greeting.

"Mother," Diana bowed in return.

Considering the young man, she inquired, "Diana, how do you esteem this boy-child?"

Blushing, the Princess admitted, "Like a brother."

Several Amazons gasped at the declaration.

Hippolyta took that into consideration as she examined the device which had been set aside.

Alexis offered, unhelpfully, "If he were a girl, we could use the Ceremony of Sisterhood to remove the Elementals. But because he is a boy the goddess' would be unable to aid him."

Speaking up, Helena offered, "If it's a matter of gender then couldn't male counterparts stand in for the goddesses?"

Everyone turned to the historian, who blushed and offered, "Apollo for Artemis, Dionysus for Demeter, Eros for Aphrodite, Hephaestus for Hestia, Ares for Athena, and Iris for Hermes."

Looks went around, some considering, others looked disbelieving. "Ares?" one scoffed, "That ingrate would never help the son of an Amazon."

Iris, Cassie knew from her mother's lectures, was the messenger of Hera and the Goddess of Rainbows and Unity. She was one of the minor gods, with no throne on Olympus, but if any of the ancient beings who called themselves gods could unite the five others, it would be her.

"Would he get his powers back?" Cassie wondered aloud, thinking how it would be spectacular to see Wonder Boy in action!

"That is unlikely," Diana sighed. "But I will be content to see him run again, to laugh, to smile without that light of sadness in his eyes."

"You feel responsible for what has happened to him, daughter?" Hippolyta inquired.

Wonder Woman nodded, saying, "I cannot help but feel that I pushed him down the path of a hero, and like any great hero, his path ended in tragedy. Mother, please allow me to go to the gods; I will convince them to extend their blessings."

Hippolyta considered for a moment and sighed. "He is of my sister's blood, he is family, but be warned, daughter – the gods will ask a price. If you do this, you will be in Ares' debt."

That seemed to shake the Princess's resolve, but the heroine nodded and bowed again. "Thank you, mother, I will go now, with your blessing."

"Meaning you would have gone without it," the Queen mused. "My blessing is with you, daughter, and the blessings of the Goddesses."

The forge of Hephaestus was dark except for the forge fires, which were burning exceptionally bright, Diana noted as she entered the workshop. Hephaestus himself was slaving over a bench, putting some finishing work on a new piece as she approached. The god of metalworking, and pretty much any trade that had to do with metal, was built like a gorilla – short, with broad shoulders and arms that looked overly long. The arms were mostly hairless, though, the product of an eternity of having the sparks from enchanted metals burning the hair away. His arms and back were covered with burn marks, battle scars, and the scars from when he'd been thrown from Mount Olympus by his mother while still a baby.

"I really wish you let me take out that armor," the god mused as he pulled an oil cloth over his project and turned.

Diana stiffened, but she knew better than to take the bait. "Hephaestus, God of the Industrial Age," she started, doing her utmost to get on the beings good side, "I have come seeking a favor."

He snorted, "Yes, I remember; heroes used to do that a lot. Come on, out with it. I have to have that done by the new moon, so drop the flowery speech."

Nodding in understanding, she accused, "A man-child lays wounded on Themyscira without a visible injury, struggling to control Elemental forces harnessed by a scientist I believe was acting under your inspiration."

Laughing, the god demanded, "And what proof do you have of that?"

"Eugene Gottfried worked himself to death to understand the complexities of what he was doing, but after reviewing his notes I've come to realize that he was performing works that should have been beyond his abilities. Only the inspiration of the gods could have allowed him to perform such a feat, and you are the God of Metalworking. To mold the metal as he did, he would have to have your favor," she explained.

Hephaestus offered, "I'll admit that I was intrigued, he was trying to create something that I'd never seen before, combining metallurgy, botany, radiology, and mysticism into one. My attention might have caused his inspiration, but the foundation of your accusation is unfounded."

She kept her disappointment under control – she'd hoped to be able to get the god's aid through guilt. "What would you have me do to earn your aid then?" she asked.

He moved over to another bench and retrieved three items: sandals, gloves and a belt. "You will go to Hermes, Atlas and Hercules, and give them these new items to replace the old. I don't care what you do with the old items so long as the new ones are delivered," he explained.

"That's all? Granted, Hermes might be hard to track down, but this seems like a small thing for what I am asking," she countered, looking for the trick.

Hephaestus tapped his nose and pointed into one of the fires. Through the flames she could see a young man in a high school metalworking shop, and heard him pray, "Oh, mighty Hephaestus, hear my prayer and guide me to a passing grade."

"Been getting a lot of those lately," the god said proudly, "Mostly from the students at the high school your distant cousin was going to. I like having people praying to me again, so the way I figure it, if the boy is active in the world then people might actually come to believe in the gods again."

Of course, a god always had a selfish reason.

Hermes was the busiest of the gods, especially since the world was now in what it was calling 'The Information Age'. Trying to track the wing-footed messenger to any one location was difficult, but the best locations to find him were Marathons. Hundreds of people challenging themselves and each other to see who could run the fastest always got the God of Traveler's attention. In this case she found him watching a race in Idaho.

"Hermes," she called out, being on good term with this particular god.

"Ah, Diana, come on, I want you to see something," he said, waving her over. He pointed to a trio – two parents who were pushing a stroller in front of them as they ran with the group. "Heartwarming, isn't it?"

The woman agreed, understanding why Hermes was so interested – parents sharing the love of the god's favorite sport with their child would be heartwarming to him.

"Your new sandals, courtesy of Hephaestus," she offered.

"Oh, thank you, my dear," he responded, taking the footwear and trading them out for the running shoes he was wearing. The shoes transformed into worn sandals, and when he put the new sandals on they transformed into shoes. "Ah, that's nice, but I'll have to break them in. Now, what can I do for you, Diana?"

"I was hoping that you could tell me where the other gods are," she asked her favor.

"You mean the other four you need to convince to help Robert?" he responded. "Ares is in South America, stirring up trouble between some indigenous tribes. Apollo is taking in taking in a new musical on Broadway between overseeing medical advancements at Empire State University. Eros is with his wife in Australia, doing something for his mother. Dionysus was helping set up a new microbrewery in Gotham City. And then there's Iris, who you don't have to go looking for – she'll find you when the ceremony is ready."

"She'll help us, without asking a favor?" Diana wondered aloud.

"Oh, she'll ask a favor," Hermes countered. "She wants to claim the boy as her Champion. You've seen the way he gathers those like him – that little club of young heroes within the Justice League."

"The Titans," she clarified.

"Worst. Name. Ever," he moaned. "Why couldn't they have gone for my idea: 'Young, Just-Us'."

Diana rolled her eyes, recognizing the recommendation that had come from the team's newest member – a speedster – always the favored of Hermes.

"Thank you, Lord Hermes," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Enjoy the race."

"Be careful, Diana; Ares is still mad about the last time you crossed paths," he warned.

"Absolutely not," Ares announced without hearing a word out of the Amazonian Princess' mouth. "I will not give one speck of my power to a child so that Iris can use him to UNITE desperate parties."

"Come now, Ares, don't you want the praises of mankind?" Diana sued.

Laughing, Ares gestured to the battle that was about to take place, a territorial dispute over the change in a river's flow had put two tribes that modern man had yet to find on the path to killing each other off. "These peoples are praising me, every war on every continent is a praise to me, every competition that pits one group against another is praise to the God of War," he announced.

Staring down hungrily at the gathered warriors he spat, "Be gone, woman – man's work is about to begin."

"Know this, Lord Ares," she said, filling the title with scorn, "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will hound you, putting an end to the brushfires of conflict before they can grow into anything more. If I cannot have your cooperation, then I will starve you of your praise until you beg me to let you offer your blessing."

With that, she flew into the valley and started uprooting trees. She replanted the trees in a fence that kept the two sides from attacking each other.

When she'd been told that Eros was in Australia on his mother's orders she'd imagined that he was overseeing the blossoming of a new star-crossed love that would be on par with Romeo and Juliet. Instead he and his wife, Psyche, were getting couple's counseling, apparently they'd been fighting lately, causing the upswing in divorces the world over.

Psyche was a beautiful woman who, as a mortal, had been deemed to be equal to the goddess Aphrodite – which hadn't gone over well with the Goddess of Beauty. Eros had been sent to make her fall in love with a wild animal, a horse or a bull or a duck, or something, but Eros had been surprised at her beauty and fumbled one of his golden arrows, sticking himself with it, and causing him to fall in love with the mortal woman.

Their tale wasn't one that she'd learned growing up – the Amazons had removed themselves from Man's World before the rise of Rome, which had been when this happened, Eros going under the name Cupid at the time. Eventually Psyche and Aphrodite had come to an arrangement and Psyche had become a minor god in her mother-in-law's service, overseeing the abiding love between man and wife. Eros, however, seemed to have lost his 'mojo', as the Flash would say, becoming disenchanted with his job.

"It's impossible," the goddess complained, "How is true love supposed to form if they fall out of love days, or even just hours, after falling in love?"

"Hey, I'm just going with the times," Eros responded. "It used to be that only serious people went to college while the grunts of the world dropped out of high school to take up a trade. Now colleges are the party capitals of the world. With that many people all milling about, usually indoors, they get in the way of my shots. Then I have to go back and shoot them with lead arrows to make them fall out of love."

Diana considered the situation, and knew that there was a lot of difficulty between Artemis, Dionysus and Aphrodite, in regards to colleges. Artemis was the Goddess of Maidens – those who held to their virginities – both female and male – were under her care. Dionysus was the God of Wine and Madness, overseeing the sometimes out-of-control parties where girls and boys lost their innocence in droves. Aphrodite was the Goddess of Love, both abiding and fleeting, but with children switching partners quickly it was difficult to catch them looking at each other to make them fall in love.

Pulling her lasso from her belt, the Amazonian tossed the loop over the winged god's shoulders. "Tell us the truth, Eros," she asked, demanded really, because the lasso forced anyone within the loop to answer honestly, "Tell us why you are depressed."

"I . . . want to be a father," he admitted, blushing.

Psyche wondered, "You want to sire a hero?"

"No, Psyche, I want to sire a godling, with you," he clarified, "But we're just so busy. I thought that if there were less couples in the world that you and I would have more time to be together."

"Oh, Cupid," the goddess cried, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Diana let her loop go free and turned away as the two immortal beings transformed into balls of light. She'd have to track Eros down again and ask for his aid.

"Lord Apollo," the Amazon Princess announced as she sat down next to the man who was watching the rehearsal.

"Ah, Diana, my sister's name sake," he remarked, acting surprised to see her, "To what do I owe this honor?"

Playing along with the God of Music, Doctors and Prophesy, she answered, "I have come seeking your favor, my Lord. A young man I think of as my brother lays wounded, and I need your aid in healing him." She was hoping to play on his feelings as a brother.

"Ah, siblings," he sighed, and then cringed as the woman on stage sung off key. He started musing and decided, "If you want my favor . . . this play is one of the best written in recent years, but the female lead . . . she's just not right for the part. To earn my participation, I want you to take the lead part for the first performance in one week."

Looking down at the stage, the heroine known as Wonder Woman knew that there would be more to the challenge than singing in public and strutting across a stage.

The play had been a smash success, but the Princess had managed to keep her real name out of the playbill, going by the alias 'Diana Prince'. She'd only played the opening night, which was actually the only night the play wasn't sold out. A part of her had hoped that Dionysus would show up at the after-party, but Apollo was the only god there.

Dionysus wasn't hard to track down, but he was in one of the most unlikely places that Diana could think of: Arkham Asylum. A holding place for the criminally insane, the institution dedicated to understanding the delicate balance of the human brain was to some a refuge, to others a nightmare, and to a rare few a second home. As the God of Madness, she supposed that the collection of psychotics would draw Dionysus' curiosity.

"He looks so harmless," the god said as he peered into a monitor where the criminal called The Joker was cackling madly as he rocked back and forth on his bed, restrained by a straightjacket. "It's hard to believe that as soon as he gets out of here he'll go on a killing spree just to 'stretch his arms'."

"One would think he's your son, the way he swings from harmless to deadly," Diana noted, asking a question that had been nagging her for some time.

"No, no, this one's not mine," Dionysus answered as he watched the psychotic remove the restraints and slip out a carefully disguised exit at the back of his cell. The god looked up and asked, "Aren't you going to go after him?"

She shook her head reluctantly. "I've already informed Bat-Man about your interest – he's probably waiting at that tunnel's exit."

"Ah, I see, so I suppose that now's the time you ask for my favor to heal your little seedling," the god inquired.

"It is, Lord Dionysus," Diana answered, considering. "What would you ask of me?"

He flipped the screen to show another man, commenting, "This one calls himself 'Scarecrow' and designed a gas that causes those exposed to it to experience frightening visions. You will take off your magical artifacts and dose yourself with the drug. As an immortal Amazon you will survive the experience, but I think it would be . . . illuminating."

Diana shivered, wondering what nightmare the god would make her experience. Making the choice, she nodded, and started removing her armor.

Bobby watched the waves lap the pristine beach from a bench well back from the sands. His balance was such that he couldn't walk on sand, making the warm waves tantalizingly out of reach. It had been nearly three weeks since he'd woken up on the island of the Amazons, his sponsor having left for parts unknown. He'd spent a lot of that time staring at the sea, but not all of it.

Diana had brought text books from what the island residents called 'Man's World'. The foundlings, girls who'd found their way to the island with the aid of the Olympian gods, were being trained from the texts, but the perspective was twisted from the opinions of the women teaching. He'd listened to one woman speaking of World War II as if it had been the worst mistake in human history, that both sides had spilled blood meaninglessly.

"Excuse me, Teacher," he'd called out from the back of the class, "But I wonder if you've considered the opinion of the Jews in your use of the word 'meaningless'."

"The Allies did not know of the plight of the Jews when they started their war," the Teacher countered.

"Be that as it may, the fact remains that those interned, starved, killed, slaughtered, do not consider it meaningless," Bobby stressed. "The United States of America, the nation that I am from, remained out of the war until we were attacked by a member of the Axis nations. Fighting to protect one's self, family, community and nation, are those notions meaningless?"

"N, no," the Teacher stammered, caught off guard. Earlier that morning she'd been drilling the girls that defense was the only reason to take up arms. "Of course not," she spat, "But your United States would have found an excuse to join the fight regardless of reason."

"That is conjecture," Bobby turned. "If it hadn't been Nippon, then Germany would have assaulted us, as they tried to do. Jet powered bombers were crossing the Atlantic with nuclear weapons when they were brought down by your Princess and her allies when they were transported back in time."

Finding the book he wanted he showed it to the class, explaining, "The Constitution of the United States of America. I won't go through it all at this time, but the part I want to point out is this – we believe that all men have certain unalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. If any nation, people or creed, who hold these notions to be true comes under attack from those who would kill, enslave and oppress, it is the duties of those with these liberties to aid those under attack."

He pushed the book towards the teacher and turned to the girls who were staring at him in awe. "The war started because one group was intolerant of another, it is an ugly truth that there are those kinds of people out there – history shows us that. Our discussion has gone a little far afield, the fact remains that the Axis powers attacked, oppressed, and killed, those who were not like themselves. What they would have done if they'd won, we will never know. The people who fought that war, even though they were mostly men, were no less justified in their determination to end the war. Granted, our record isn't completely spotless, but I'm proud to call myself an American, and I was proud to wear the colors of my nation when I stood by Princess Diana's side."

At the back of the room Queen Hippolyta clapped, and announced, "I think that we should have you teaching this class, Robert. You have a . . . unique perspective."

So, Bobby had become a teacher. It was just history – the girls knew how to read and write and do math, but he had to write his own lesson plans, homework schedules and tests. For the most part the three weeks had gone by fairly quickly, but he was still limited by his handicap. He fell asleep in mid lecture, and sat up at night unable to fall asleep. In order to overcome this, he'd asked Cassandra to be his co-teacher, to take over if he nodded off, or become confused.

Looking out over the sea he saw a spec appear on the horizon which he mistook for a bird at first. As it came closer he reconsidered, and considered again, before realizing that it was Diana, returning from whatever adventures she'd been on. Pushing himself to his feet, Bobby waved, getting the Princess' attention.

She landed next to him just as another wave of tiredness hit him.

"Bobby?" she gasped, catching him before he fell. "Bobby? Bobby!"

The male gods were not allowed on Paradise Island, but Poseidon contributed somewhat by causing a jut of land just off the island to rise from the sea. At the center of the island an alter was set up, and the young man placed upon it. Queen Hippolyta wondered at the tasks her daughter had to perform to gain the favor of the six Olympian deities.

Hephaestus was the first to arrive, and with him he brought a gift: a metal mesh designed to be worn over the arm, topped by a plate of exquisite workmanship. Four stars had been stamped into the metal, along with the flowing script of spells designed to contain elemental forces. "The previous bracer was flawed," the craftsman said, showing off the workmanship.

"I added a fourth kryptonite disk to contain a water elemental – there should be sufficient shielding to keep that Apollo wanna-be in your league from getting ill," he explained. "With this configuration you won't need the most powerful Elementals – so long as they are balanced."

"Thank you," her daughter said, giving the unlovely god a hug.

He drew Diana off and explained how to use it.

The others arrived and milled about waiting on the sixth member of the circle. Iris was the Messenger Goddess of Unity, and was the catalyst needed to complete the ritual, just as Hermes was the catalyst for the traditional ritual. Many of the Amazons, especially the younger ones, did not understand why they needed a member of the opposite gender to lead the ritual, but the significance was not lost on Hippolyta. Only together, male and female, was any great thing possible.

Taking their positions, Iris moved around the circling gods with a jug, into which the five male deities placed their blessings. She then moved to the head of the alter, chanting, "By ancient rite, by bold initiative, by the blessings of those gathered here, Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes, I command you: expel the foreign spirits that you carry within you."

She overturned the pot, and the blessings spilled out like water, striking the alter and splashing, not outward, but inward. The boy opened his mouth and started to exhale one seemingly endless breath. His body began to give off waves of heat that could be felt outside the circle of the gods. Beneath him the stone splintered as it was pressed down by the sudden weight of his body.

Three Elementals formed, and Hippolyta gasped at the sight of them. Geos, Zephyr, Ifrit: these elementals were among the four most powerful, lacking only Aquarius to make a complete set. How Doctor Gottfried had managed to harness them was beyond the queen's understanding. The Elementals looked around at the gods and seemed to come to the conclusion that this was not the place or time to enact their retribution for being trapped for so long. As one, they disbursed back into nature.

"Diana," Iris called out, and the woman's daughter stepped forward.

She placed the sleeve of metal on the boy's chest, rather than his arm, and called out, "I invite you, spirits of Air, Water, Earth and Fire, to come forward. This bracer is the work of Hephaestus, the perfected version of the previous Power Shackle, which this boy wore to do many great deeds in the eyes of the gods. At this time it lays empty and powerless, but I ask that one of each of you willingly allow your essences to be bound to this device, so that once more the Promise of Tomorrow might shine out an example to his generation, and the generations to come."

A splash of water was heard, and the Queen turned to see a being of water trudging across land, shedding some of its mass as it went. A mini tornado formed, touching down and taking a semi-humanoid shape. Rocks broken from the alter formed into another figure, which dumped out a brazier for the water elemental to pool itself in. The fire from the brazier formed into a fourth elemental, which joined the others.

From some place beyond knowing, a fifth Elemental formed – ether – the Element that both separates and unifies the other four. This fifth Element reached out to the others, who joined with it, and all five leapt on top of the boy, the brazier falling to the ground as they were absorbed into the new bracer. Under each of the four stars a light began to glow – red, yellow, blue and green.

With the ceremony complete, the gods were turning to leave when Iris called out, "I have one last gift for this boy." She produced a silver diadem from the folds of her robes, and the Amazons gasped as she placed it on Robert's forehead. "Let all who see this know that this boy, by whatever name he chooses to call himself, is a child of the lost line of Amazons, his blood being that of heroes, going all the way back to Antipole herself. He is the bridge between the Ancient and the Modern, the Old and the New, the Present and the Future!"

The Amazons knelt as the six deities changed into their true forms and vanished.

Bobby was falling, spinning and tumbling, but he wasn't alone. Clinging to him were three beings of immense power, half mad with their anger. All three were looking to the ground, looking forward to the devastation they would cause in retaliation for the crime which had been perpetrated upon them. They would burn and crush and tear all that stood in their path until all their pent up anger was washed away before returning to the natural order of nature.

He realized that they weren't clinging to him, the bracer, damaged as it was still had them partially contained, but they would break free when he hit the ground. Bobby couldn't allow that – they would destroy his family, his friends, his school, his community: anyone and everyone within range of their wrath would die, either instantaneously, or as a result of their wounds. The young man couldn't allow that to happen; wouldn't allow that to happen.

As his body rushed earthward he focused, drawing the elementals out of the damaged crystal disks and into his own body. He could feel them fighting him, but with an inner strength he'd been unaware of until that moment he bottled them away. They ruthlessly tore at his concentration, tried to undermine his determination, tried to make him forget why he was fighting them in the first place, but he held them at bay. And still, the ground grew ever closer.

He struck the gazebo that was glowing in the moonlight, smashing it to splinters and striking the ground hard enough to create an impact crater. Consciousness fled, and he heard someone calling out his name: "Bobby? Bobby! BOBBY!"

Jerking awake, the young man known as Robert Trevor-Barnes to some, looked around in desperation. Memories came flooding back to him, six months of mentally wrestling with three immensely powerful beings that wanted to do nothing more than to destroy everything that he held dear. He couldn't feel them anymore, and that frightened him most of all – if they got loose . . .

"It's alright, Bobby," a woman called out, sitting down on his bed.

"Ms.? Uh, Ms. Sandsmark?" he recognized her from the time she'd visited the classroom. "What . . . what happened, where are they?"

"They?" the woman wondered unhelpfully, "If you're talking about Princess Diana or Queen Hippolyta, they need their rest too."

"No, the Elementals," Bobby stressed.

"Oh, they've dissipated back into Nature, or so I'm told," the woman groused. "I would have loved to watch the ceremony."

Bobby stared at her in disbelieving horror.

"Robert," Queen Hippolyta cheered when she entered the room. When she saw his face, though, she came to his side and after a moment of staring into his wild eyes she soothed, "Don't worry, the Elementals didn't do any damage before dissipating. It's alright, no one was harmed."

He sighed and dropped back to the bed. "It's over then. That nightmare is finally over."

"It is," the Queen assured him. "Now, I think you've been in that bed long enough, young man. You need to see the sun, up with you."

He climbed out of bed, reaching for the cane he'd grown used to using and stood up, balancing awkwardly. It took Bobby a moment to realize that it was the cane that was throwing him off, and he dropped it to stand on his own. He began walking, holding up a hand to shield the light from his eyes. Outside Wonder Woman was waiting wearing a normal one-piece swimsuit, with sandals on her feet and a towel over her shoulder.

Looking to the ocean, he walked over to the beach and dig his toes into the warm sands. Breaking into a run he sprinted to the waves and dove in, dragging himself through the water a little haphazardly at first until he got his rhythm back. It felt wonderful to feel the silky caress of water again!

Coming up for air, he shook the water out of his eyes, and looked around for shore. Spotting the gathering of Amazons, he took a deep breath and swam towards them, reaching the beach and laughing as he walked up to where Diana, Cassandra and Helena, were laying out towels. Helena was wearing beach-gear but not a swimsuit. Cassandra was wearing a white one-piece, but she'd cut out a circle in the chest so that some of her cleavage would be exposed.

The girl modeled it, one hand on her hip, "What do you think?"

"Nice," he answered, sitting down with them. "How long was I out?"

"About a week," Diana answered, tossing a towel his way. "That means that you've got another month to get back into shape."

"Aren't we going to the mainland?" Cassie asked, looking worried that she'd miss her chance for shopping.

"Don't worry, Cassandra," Wonder Woman laughed, "A trip to the mainland is still on the itinerary. However, Bobby, you'll need this, to . . . help identify you. It belonged to my aunt, Antipole."

It was a silver diadem with a five-sided blue star in the center. Figuring it was some new hazing tradition; he slipped it onto his brow and asked, "What do you think?"

"I like it," Cassie responded. "The blue really brings out your eyes."

He cocked it to one side and then laid down on this towel, closing his eyes against the bright sunlight. In a couple minutes he'd have to put on suntan lotion, but he didn't worry about it. For the time being, everything was in balance.

"You are sure," a shadow cloaked woman demanded of another, holding a second by the collar of her shirt; "A silver diadem with a blue star?"

"That's what I said," the second woman spat, pulling herself free. "Why, what does it mean?"

"It means that he really is of Antipole's blood," the first responded in hushed tones.

In a sarcastic tone, the second retorted, "The only reason they allowed him on the island is because he was of Antipole's blood."

"Yes, but I never believed the claim," the first announced, staring off towards the island. "I thought that it was just a ploy that the fools of Themyscira were using to open their borders to men. The true heir of Antipole . . . that is a treasure we cannot pass up."

The woman stepped out of the shadows, her red hair and green eyes shining in the sun and in her anticipation. "Soon the blood of Antipole will flow through the veins of the Bana-Mighdall once more."

End Chapter Five: Balance

LeoN: questions, comments, concerns? Please leave a review.


	6. Taken

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction set in the DC Animated Universe, and certain characters are copyrights of DC Comics. These characters are used without the consent of DC, but no money is being generated from the posting of this story. However, if DC wants to use my characters or story, I'd love a few grand in royalties!

Wonder Boy – Part II: Powerless

Chapter Six: Taken

Cassie Sandsmark was having the time of her life as she moved through the Greek market with Bobby Trevor by her side! She was amazed at the difference in him from the crippled teen who'd arrived on Paradise island in an induced coma. He was full of life, laughing and smiling, haggling with the best of them.

Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes was everything that she'd ever imagined him to be. He was 17 now, about five-ten, his brown hair turning blond in the Mediterranean sunlight as his skin took on a healthy bronze. She'd already admitted to herself that she was attracted to the boy on a physical level, and then there was so much more to Bobby than his looks. Over the past five weeks she'd watched him teaching world history, training with Amazon Warriors, and sunning on the beach. His brown eyes had flecks of blue in them that were brought out by the blue star on the silver diadem he'd been made to wear.

The only thing she was disappointed about was that he hadn't gotten his superpowers back along with his ability to walk unaided. As cool as Bobby was, it would have been even more amazing to if she was hanging out with Wonder Boy, the moniker that the young man had used as a member of the Justice League.

Moving through the market she noticed that there were a lot of blue t-shirts with white stars on them – Wonder Boy memorabilia that had lost value when the boy had dropped out of the media. His eyes always passed over those items, moving on without really seeing them.

They passed by a stand selling portable TVs, little black-and-white screens showing a news program from the States. Bobby stopped, staring down at the image on the screen and reached out to turn up the volume. Neither of them knew what was being said, because it was all Greek to them, but it was easy to figure out what the story was about because the original report was in English, with a ribbon at the bottom of the screen in English. On the screen three figures in similar costumes were fighting a giant robot.

Recognizing one of them as Captain Marvel, one of the most powerful members of the Justice League, she figured out that he'd recently picked up two sidekicks, named Captain Marvel, Jr. and Mary Marvel. Looking between Bobby and the screen she realized that he was following the heroine.

With a frown Cassie considered the super girl, figuring that she was wearing a white dress with a shiny lightning bolt on the front panel and dark hair. The girl sighed, figuring that she should have known that Bobby would have been attracted to dark haired girls, what with Wonder Woman, his mentor from when he'd had superpowers, having black hair. Cassie had blonde hair, but she was still a good looking girl.

Stepping up, the young woman wrapped her arms around Bobby's and turned him from the TV. "Come on, My Prince, there's an ice cream shop just up the street."

"Yes, my Prince," another voice interjected. "Come with us."

Cassie turned and saw three figures pulling off robes to reveal black armor. Two of the three had their faces covered, but the third had her face and hair uncovered. Her red hair was in a long tail and her green eyes flashed with the threat of violence.

Bobby maneuvered her behind him, facing off against the trio bravely.

***WB2/6***

"I don't know why you're here, but I don't want to fight with you," Bobby said with more strength in his voice then he really felt.

"Then you will come with us without a fight," the redhead demanded.

"No, actually I was hoping that you'd go away and leave me alone," the young man countered.

With a derisive chuckle, the leader of the trio ordered, "Sisters, take him."

"Cassie, run," he called out, ducking to the side and looking for a weapon. Finding a silver serving platter, he grabbed it, turned and threw. The plate flew low, and then caught an updraft coming from a sewer vent, spinning upwards to catch the front mercenary under the chin. Spinning, he ducked under a merchant's stand finding a bag of marbles, which he grabbed up as the continued on.

The second masked warrior leapt over the line of market stands and Bobby dumped the marbles. Strength did not give traction, or weight, so when the person hit the ground the marbles rolled underfoot causing the warrior to trip.

Grabbing an old board, the young man smashed the wood across the back of the figure's head as he or she tried to get up. The board shattered, sending the armored figure back to the ground with their forehead hitting first. He turned away, looking for another weapon as he ran from the redhead.

Hearing a war-cry he rolled under another booth, coming up in a different alley. Looking back he saw the redhead barreling at him, but when he tried to jump to the side the woman corrected her drop and tackled him. Bobby managed to tumble free, finding a pair of small hammers, he clutched them just under the head so that the hooks faced outward and advanced.

The redhead lunged at him, and he ducked, slipping the hooks under the armor plates and wrenching them. He heard the armor plate pop free, but then he was tumbling away when the woman backhanded him. One of the other juicers had recovered, catching Bobby under the arms and pulling him against the armored chest plate.

A head-butt was useless because of the armored helmet, but he struggled anyway. The redhead came forward and slapped Bobby's ears, staggering him. He was let go, but couldn't do more than stand upright. A blow to the inner thigh dropped him to the ground, but Bobby shook off the disorientation and pain and tried to get away. Something hit his shoulder, and he looked to see a dart sticking out of his arm.

He glared at the redhead and taunted, "Is that all you've got?" Bobby's vision blurred as the tranquilizer flowed through his body, dropping him to the ground as darkness to fill his vision.

***WB2/6***

"DIANA," a shrill voice called out, and the woman turned to see Cassandra running towards her like a monster was following her. "Diana, they have Bobby!"

"What!" Diana gasped. "Who has Bobby?"

The girl pointed, gasping, "Three people, in armor, Bobby knew them."

Taking to the air, Diana spotted one of the armored figures that Robin and Stargirl had reported fighting climbing into a submarine. The Princess of the Amazons swooped down, landing on the sub before it could dive. She ripped off the hatch and jumped inside to find the armored figure and a woman at the controls. No one else was in the confined space, so she grabbed the armored figure and flew through the double glass dome at the front.

She began to peel away the armored plates with the integrated chemical delivery system to reveal a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes. "No," the mercenary screamed, "That will kill me!"

"Then you'd better speak fast," Diana growled. "Where have you taken my cousin?"

"I . . . I cannot, I swore an oath," the woman stammered.

"Then you die," the Princess promised, "Slowly and painfully."

Holding the woman aloft, Wonder Woman watched as the woman's body tried to sweat out the drug that was running through her system. Pain began to etch in the mercenary's face until blood started to mix in with the sweat. Realizing that the other woman's oath was greater than her pain, Diana flew to the closest hospital and told the doctors what would need to be done to save the mercenary, cursing that she'd chosen to wear street clothes and leave the lasso on Themyscira.

Returning to the market, Diana found the Sandsmark women and landed next to them. "I could not find Bobby – they must have had a second submarine. We must return to Themyscira."

***WB2/6***

Donna had seen her sister in many moods – happy, sad, angry and melancholy – but she had never seen Diana scared before. The fact was that the Princess of the Amazons wasn't scared for herself, she was frightened for a boy who she loved more than her sisters. A familiar sense of jealousy filled the girl as she watched her sister packing to leave again.

Born Donna Troy, she'd been orphaned just hours after her birth when her mom died of complications. For the next seven years she'd bounced from one family to another, but she'd never found a fit with any of them. Most of the families had their own children, and she'd felt like an outsider while watching her foster-parents playing with their children. Those had been the best families, though; other families had ignored her unless she didn't finish her chores on time, and the only attention she got then was at the end of a belt. Her last family . . . her foster-father had tried to rape her, and after accidentally killing him she'd run away.

Wandering alone in Seattle, she'd turned the corner in an alley running away from child slavers one dark night only to find herself on the sunlit island of the Amazons. At first she'd thought that living with the Amazons would be more of the same, but she'd given the women warriors a chance. For several years Diana had been her trainer, not Hippolyta, though they still called the queen 'Mother'. Hippolyta praised both girls, and for the first time Donna wasn't jealous of her adopted-sibling.

Then Diana had gone to 'Man's World' in order to fight the threat of the White Martians. Donna had missed her sister terribly, but Hippolyta had been sure to keep the girl extremely busy of the next few years. When the girl had learned that her sister would be coming home for two months she'd been overjoyed, even though it meant that she'd have to be in the company of a male for the first time in more than a decade!

Now her sister was leaving again, abandoning her family again, for that same boy, and the feelings of jealousy tore at her heart.

"Please, sister, don't go," Donna sued.

"I have to, Donna," Diana said, gathering the few possessions she'd brought with her from Man's World. "Bobby is my responsibility, I must be the one who finds him. The League will help."

"The League," the teenager scoffed. "How can this Justice League compare to an army of Amazons ready to attack whoever would dare harm Antipole's blood?"

The Princess sighed and turned, taking Donna's hands and leading her over to the bed where they sat down facing each other. "Donna, the Amazons are warriors, true; the finest warriors in the world, but Man's World no longer honors those whose only feats are of martial strength. Weapons have evolved, philosophies have change, so much time has passed that the Amazons would not recognize the world nor understand how to operate within the boundaries of law. Immortal, unchanging, they would be unable to aid me in this quest."

Brushing Donna's dark hair behind one ear, Diana explained, "Either they would attract my prey's attention or start a third world war, neither will I be responsible for."

Hanging her head, the teenager relented.

Diana kissed her on the forehead and went back to packing. It was then that Donna noticed them – three magical relics from her sister's quest to gain the favor of the male gods. They were old, worn, but objects in the possession of gods only became more powerful over time. Watching her sister pack, the teenager realized that Diana wasn't going to take the items, and Donna waited, looking for her opportunity.

***WB2/6***

Vincent Harper didn't have much from his previous life, just the photographs from his wallet and the trinkets he'd taken from the basement of the Bromfield Estate. He'd pawned a few of them off, but there were a few that no one would buy. The silver pentagram with the four rubies like eyes was one of the items he hadn't been able to get rid of. At least for the moment.

Blood was his newest recruit, a metahuman with the ability to control fire. The little freak was disturbed in the head, even by Vincent's standards; he'd burned all he hair off of his body – arms, legs, head, elsewhere. Only the fact that the bomb shelter being made of concrete kept the little turd-wad from burning the place to the ground.

"Pretty," Blood said as he turned the talisman over in his hands.

"You want it, take it," Vincent said off hand.

With a greedy expression the other teen pulled off his silver necklace and threaded it through the two points of the pentagram so that one point faced down. "I think I'm going to stop wearing a shirt, that way I can show it off!"

"You do that," Vin responded. The little poo flinger liked to soak his shirts in kerosene and lighting himself on fire during a fight. It terrified the people they were supposed to be scaring into paying out protection money, but it made him stink otherwise.

***WB2/6***

In the extra-universal space known as Azarath, the girl known as Raven gasped as her meditative state collapsed.

"Daughter?" a calm voice inquired, "What is wrong?"

Fighting back the waves of emotion that were crashing through her, Raven answered, "Mother, someone has come into possession of a doorway into my father's realm."

"Be calm, daughter. The demon cannot touch us here," Arella, the girl's mother, assured her. "The doorway of which you speak is still locked."

"But, mother, what about your home realm," Raven argued. "Even locked, the unfortunate soul will still be able to channel the essence of the creature. Earth is in danger!"

Years ago, before she had been Arella, the girl's mother had Angela Roth, a runaway in Gotham City. Depressed and aimless, Angela had fallen in with a group of occultists who'd tricked her into participating in a dangerous ritual, opening herself to a terror from another dimension. The teenager fled from the creature she'd seen, but it was too late – the demon had impregnated the young woman with a child, a daughter, a key to unlock doorways into her father's realm.

Holding up a hand, the mother admonished, "Control yourself, Raven. Earth has many heroes, they will deal with the threat your father's vessel presents. Now, back to your meditation: you must purge all emotion if you are to obtain the next level of your enlightenment."

***WB2/6***

Diana placed the damaged submarine in a clear space of the Bat Cave normally reserved for the maintenance of the small fleet of vehicles that the billionaire, Bruce Wayne, used in his costumed war against the criminal element.

"I have a sub," the Caped Crusader commented as he came down the gantry stairs.

She shot him an impatient look, for once uninterested in matching wits with him. "I apologize, Bruce; but I need answers quick, and you are known as 'The World's Greatest Detective'."

"True that," Tim Drake, Bat-Man's teenage partner quipped as he slid down the stair railing. "So, what's so special about this sub?"

Fighting against the pain she was feeling, the woman admitted, "This submarine, and perhaps another like it, were involved in an assault against Bobby."

"The attack in Greece," Bruce commented. "What were they after?"

"They were after Bobby," she answered. "He was abducted, and this is the only lead that I have at the moment."

"Bobby was kidnapped?" Tim gasped as he dropped mid-handstand. Climbing to his feet, the teen demanded, "What happened?"

"I don't know," she retorted tartly. Pulling out a stack of papers she laid them out on a table. "Yesterday this woman," she singled out the artist's rendering of the redhead, "assaulted Bobby while we were taking a daytrip to a market in Greece. He fought back, but was overpowered."

"Is this a Toxin regulation suit," the man noted as he organized a group of photos that detailed the suit worn by one of the mercenaries.

"There were three of them – all wearing regulation suits," she explained. "Two of them got away, with Bobby."

Climbing halfway through the missing front bubble, Tim wondered, "Couldn't you have just followed the vomit? I mean, even unconscious, Bobby gets motion sickness."

"That . . . is no longer the case," she corrected the boy. "I alerted the Justice League, but I suppose you haven't checked in with them. The Elementals that were hiding inside his body have been purged. He has his balance back."

"And his powers?" the Boy Wonder exclaimed.

Diana shook her head, keeping a secret close.

"What would these mercenaries want with Robert?" Bruce asked.

She considered before answering, "I've thought about that and the only reason I can think of is that they want to figure out how he became Wonder Boy."

Bruce frowned, but didn't offer another theory. "Tim, call Dick and Barbara – tell them that they'll be on their own for a few days. You can go out if you want to."

"No, I'll stay," the teen said as he ran over to the secure phone-line.

"What about your friends," the man called out.

"I'll call them, tell them I'm not coming," Tim responded. "Bobby's my friend, too. I can only imagine what he's going through right now."

***WB2/6***

With a groan, Bobby sat up, finding himself on a bed of multicolored pillows, covered by a silk sheet. He was inside a room that looked to have been carved from stone with a dome of stained glass overhead. The glass threw a rainbow of colors throughout the room, turning the walls mostly violet.

Throwing off the sheet he found that he'd been changed into blue silk pants, with boxers underneath. He moved over to a window and looked down at the practice yard where a couple dozen girls where practicing martial arts. He could see windows and balconies carved into the walls of a canyon, but he had no idea where he was.

Having lived with the Amazons for a month he recognized the kata the girls were practicing, but the place was so different from Paradise Island. It was more 'Arabian Nights' than 'Odyssey'. There were also men in the background, mostly doing manual labor like getting water from a well or carving new rooms into the walls of the canyon.

From behind him there was the sound of stone on stone and he turned to see a portion of the wall drawing back. A woman entered, a redhead with a single ponytail sticking out the top of her head and green eyes. He recognized her as the leader of the mercs who'd abducted him. She wasn't wearing the black Toxin Regulation Armor, but harem-style pants, sandals, and a top that left very little to the imagination.

"You know," he commented, leaning against the window frame, "If you're expecting to get a ransom for me then you're stupider than you look."

He saw her face flush with anger that she stamped down. "We do not seek a ransom. You are here to do a duty to the true Amazons, the Bana-Mighdall, heirs to the legacy of Antipole."

That surprised him. "So, you're a descendant of Antipole too?" he wondered aloud. After a moment of thought he added, "She must be rolling in her grave if a bunch of low-life mercenaries are claiming to be her heirs."

The redhead blushed, first with embarrassment and then with anger again. "Watch your tongue, male; unlike those fools who hid themselves away for 3000 years the Bana-Mighdall know the place of a man."

"What, like doing menial labor while their sisters and daughters kill themselves fighting other people's battles?" Bobby retorted. He smirked as the woman turned red again. She couldn't really argue with him, because to admit one – the so-called place of a man – was to admit the other – the futility of dying for a cause you don't believe in. "I recognize you from the fight in West Brook, when you were backing up Vincent Harper on his ego-trip-revenge kick. You're the one I broke the faceplate off of."

"You have a good memory," she responded, getting back some of her moral superiority. "My name is Artemis, named for the Greek Goddess of the Moon."

The good manners that his mom had forced on him compelled Bobby to answer, "My name is Bobby Trevor-Barnes, but you can call me Robert."

"Robert," she responded, considering him in a new light. He realized that she was looking him over like he was some kind of treat.

"Now, Artemis, if you don't mind my asking; if not for ransom then why did you kidnap me?" he demanded.

"You have something that the Bana-Mighdall have been searching for, without really knowing that we were searching for it," she answered, touching her forehead.

Bobby reached up and found that he was still wearing the diadem of Antipole. Taking it off he tossed the thin silver crown onto a pillow between himself and Artemis, saying, "If you want it, you can have it. Just knock me out again and leave me some place with a telephone: I'll find my own way home."

"None but those of Antipole's blood can wear her crown," the mercenary answered.

"But you claimed to be an heir of Amazonian Queen," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "We are heirs to her legacy, but our first queen only had one child – the boy, Hippolytus. We thought he'd died because of Theseus' stupidity in believing his wife, but the fact that you can wear her crown and remain sane proves that you are of his blood, her blood, however diluted over the millennium."

"So, when you say that I have something you've been searching for, you mean . . ."

"Your blood," she answered. "You have been chosen to sire the first true queen of the Bana-Mighdall."

He snorted, and asked, "And just who am I supposed to screw? You?"

With a blush, she admitted, "We will not know from whom the Queen will be born. On the full moon, in three weeks time, we will perform a ritual to the goddess', in order to spread the blood of Antipole as far into the ranks of our order as possible. The first born girl will become our Queen."

Bobby blinked at her for about 15 seconds before sneering, "A Queen born of rape?"

"Please, you'll be so doped that you'll beg for more," she responded.

"Consent through coercion is the same as rape," he shot back. "If you don't know that, then your precious sorority must be more out of touch than the immortals who locked themselves away on Themyscira for 3000 years."

He moved forward, picking up the diadem.

"In time you will come to enjoy the practices of the Amazons," Artemis told him. "In time you will come to accept your true place in the world, as all men in this canyon have."

"No, I won't," he promised. He felt the diadem shift in his hand, and reacted without thinking, lunging forward and swiping. The intertwined silver wire had flattened, forming an edge on the other side of the blue star from where he gripped it.

Artemis leapt back in surprised, and, off balance, the young man was able to bowl her over, leaping through the low opening that the wanna-be Amazon had come through. He looked around quickly and spotted a release lever. Pulling it caused the stone slab to be pushed back into place by a counterweight, sealing the redhead inside the palatial cell.

Moving quickly and cautiously, he passed through the carved stone halls, looking for a way out. He found his way to the canyon floor and ran into a group of men who were bringing in water from the well. They noticed the diadem in his hand and shouted, "He has a knife; there is a boy with a knife here!"

Bobby punched that man in the nose while an alarm went up outside. A warrioress turned the corner and spotted him. "You there, stud, your mistress is going to flay you for taking up a weapon."

"Good thing for me I don't have a mistress," he responded, turning towards the courtyard and sprinting into the gathering of stunned girls.

He grabbed a staff from a rack of weapons, and guided by some unknown hand he pressed the diadem to one end. The wire that had been the grip flexed and fixed itself to the staff's end. Behind him women and girls were taking up arms to attack him, and he turned, slashing the first one across the stomach. A reflex dodge saved the warroress from being disemboweled, but as it was she fell back clutching the shallow cut she'd earned for being the first in line.

Looking at the gathering he considered that he was in a lot of trouble here. There were about two or three dozen women from the age of 15 to 35, all baying for his blood, and here he was, one man with a flimsy staff capped by an enchanted head dressing. He focused as the first woman moved in, and he parried her blow, turning to face another opponent, who he likewise turned. It was like a dance, one that he seemed to know step for step, but whoever had taught him the foot movements had taught him the wrong arm movements.

He turned the blade, making it graze a girl's throat rather than pierce it, and bringing the shaft around he sent her tumbling. Scooping up a shield he used the metal to flash sunlight into the eyes of an attacker, and then bashed her with the metal dish. Using a root sticking out of the ground he tripped one woman and smacked her with the staff as she fell. One girl he pulled into a kiss, which he followed up with a head butt that sent her sprawling. Drawing the blade of his spear across the ground sent up sparks that cause a row of warrior women to leap back in surprise.

There was a whiz of an arrow, and he ducked into the melee, coming up with a discus that he threw with all his strength. The leather practice toy curved around a pillar that the shooter was standing behind, knocking her head to the side and causing her to fall into bunch of pots that shattered and spilled water everywhere. More archers were taking aim, though, and scooping up a shield Bobby fled for his life, looping the shoulder strap over him so that light was being reflected the way he came. Sure, it made him easy to spot, but the women couldn't aim into the glare.

Running down the valley he came to an area where a group of women were training with M-4 carbines. There was a weapons cache under a tent where a group of men were taking a break from their labors, trusted to not turn the weapons near at hand against their mistress'. He ran past them, shoving the shaft of his spear under his shield and catching up a pair of rifles by the weapons mount in one hand and a pair of 30 round magazines in the other. Slapping the magazines into the wells, he pulled the action and set the weapons to auto. Taking one in each hand he fired wildly, scattering the women as they sought cover.

Tossing the empty weapons aside he grabbed up a pair of grenades from another cache and hooking his thumbs through the rings he pulled out the safety pins as he ran into a bottle neck of the canyon. He took cover from the explosion, but started moving again as soon as it passed, finding himself facing the box end of the canyon. A manual elevator was bringing supplies into the valley, guarded by a pair of women, one of them with a net.

A stack of crates was set to one side, and Bobby climbed them like stairs and leapt, finding handholds on the wall. Setting his feet, he started climbing, focused solely on getting away from the crazy women. Behind him someone called out, "Hold!"

He ignored the woman's order and kept climbing, coming to a point where he couldn't reach the next handhold. Setting his feet he kicked up, reaching out to grab the handhold above him. Just before his hands reached the crease of rock and arrow sprouted from the stone. His left hand found purchase, but his right struck the arrow, and before he could get a grip he started falling. In addition to blocking his hand the arrow had spilled grit into the crease, and his hand slipped as all his weight came down on it.

He fell, twisting, and tossed his weapons away so that he could roll out of the sudden stop, coming up at the feet of a woman wearing a helmet that featured a blank faceplate. Before he could turn back to get his weapons the woman slapped him across his face with her bow. A pair of men leapt on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back and forcing him to kneel in front of the masked woman.

Glaring up, he spat, causing the gathered women to gasp. One brought up her rifle, switching the selector switch to semi-automatic.

"Hold," the masked woman ordered, and the woman with the gun removed her finger from the trigger even while still aiming. "I am Shim'Tar, leader of the Bana-Mighdall," the mask wearer announced.

Another of the wanna-bes came up holding the spear he'd formed from a staff and the 'Crown of Antipole'. The Amazon leader plucked the blade from the shaft and it transformed back into the diadem. She placed the crown back on Bobby's head, getting another gasp from the women surrounding him.

"This male is not to be harmed," Shim'Tar announced, "But it is obvious that he needs to learn the place of his gender. Bind his thumbs and throw him in with the others. And someone free my daughter from the ceremony room."

***WB2/6***

"Is it true?" Courtney demanded as she jogged up to Wonder Woman. "Has Bobby really been abducted?"

The woman nodded, and the teen looked at her feet, "I'm going with you, to find him."

Diana turned, retorting, "No, you are not."

Standing as tall as she could Courtney Whitmore brandished her starstaff and stressed, "I am going, with or without your permission. Bobby is my friend, too, and I'm not going to leave him in God knows what condition while I play hero at home."

"And what about your home," the Amazon demanded. "You have a duty to the people of Blue Valley."

"Pat can cover that," she shot back, and then admitted, "Frankly, I think the town's folk would be glad to get rid of me for a while after I blew up the gas station."

The fallout from her latest battle with a super-villain had been the costliest yet. Not only had she destroyed the town's newest gas station, but the resulting explosion had shattered windows and started a house fire in the new subdivision, displacing about 50 families. Then again, she'd uncovered the lair where her classmates were being hypnotized into ninja assassins, and the fact that the houses hadn't been built to code!

"I'm coming, too," Tim Drake announced as he stepped out of a side room. "What we learned from taking apart that submarine was only the first step," he reasoned before she could refuse, "You'll need a detective along to help work out the clues."

Shaking her head, Wonder Woman countered, "Wearing a mask would only draw attention, Robin, and I can't wait for nightfall for you to come out."

He paused for only a moment before taking off his domino mask. He had blue eyes that were kinda pretty, but way too intense for Courtney's liking. "You can call me Alvin Draper, or Al, if you like," Robin announced, "and I am coming with you."

Courtney went to stand beside the boy, showing a united front, and they were joined by a third member – Jessica Chambers, aka: Jesse Quick. "Count me in!" the speedster chimed.

Diana's shoulders slumped, and she relented. "Alright, pack your bags – I don't know how long this is going to take."

Turning to Robin, Stargirl held up her hand and got a high-five. Jessica joined in the gesture of victory, and then asked, "So, what's the mission?"

***WB2/6***

New York City was exactly like the pictures she'd seen growing up, but after so long living on Paradise Island the city's glimmering lights and bustling sounds was strange and exotic. The girl landed in an alley to avoid notice and then stepped out to take in the sight from ground level. She looked around, examining the clothes that the women were wearing and figured out which were appropriate. From her own years as a runaway she recognized street-walkers and normal people.

Hercules had been granted immortality and a place among the gods as the deity of strength. He wasn't big into clothes, though, typically wearing just a loincloth and sandals. When he moved among humans, though, he couldn't just wear a diaper, so the belt had the power to become just about any clothing the wearer desired. In this case it transformed into an orange bodysuit with stars on the legs and chest.

Other godly items had a similar ability, but not as powerful. The Sandals of Hermes could become any type of footwear, in this case heeled boots. Atlas' Gloves had turned into bracers, like the ones that the Amazons wore to remind themselves of their enslavement at the hands of heroes like Hercules and Theseus.

When they obtained their freedom the warrior women had been split in what they were going to do. Antipole led half their number in seeking revenge, eventually dying by the hand of the man who'd enslaved her, the same man who'd given her a son. Hippolyta had led the other half to Paradise Island, where they'd been granted immortality by the six gods.

Donna Troy knew all of that, knew that Robert Trevor was the last living link that her Queen had to her lost sister, but it still rankled Donna's sense of purpose to be second best to anyone. She'd come to New York in the hopes that she could prove herself a hero equal to, or greater than, her 'cousin'. With that in mind she set about seeking out some villains to fight.

It turned out that she didn't have to look far.

***WB2/6***

"You idiot," Vincent Harper barked at his subordinate. "We were supposed to intimidate these people into paying protection money, not burn down their store!"

His words were directed at Blood, who just as he'd promised was wearing the silver pentagram on his bare chest. Since putting on the talisman he'd been losing hair and the colored part of his eyes had turned red. Along with the physical changes he'd gained the ability to produce fire, not just to manipulate it, and become even harder to control.

"The boss said 'get them to pay or force them out," Blood retorted. "They wouldn't pay, so now they're forced out."

"Except that no one will be able to move back into that shop for years," Vin growled.

A woman's voice interjected, "Are you two responsible for this?"

Both turned and did a double take as they took in the woman in her late teens, about their own ages with long black hair that hung in waves down to her ass. She was wearing a sleeveless orange bodysuit with gold stars running up her hips and over her breasts, cinched about the waist by a gold belt centered on a single 'W'. Heeled boots and silvery bracers completed her outfit, but Vin didn't recognize her from the portfolio of heroes in and around New York that his boss had put together.

Blood faced the girl, puffing out his chest, and inquired, "And just who are you supposed to be?"

"You can call me Wonder Girl," she announced, "Now, answer me, are you knaves responsible for this?"

She gestured to the fire that was still raging, to the family who were trying to organize a bucket brigade.

Vin snorted contemptuously, the blood pounding in his ears at the mention of Wonder-anybody, "So what if we are, 'Wonder Whore'. If you want to help these people then you'll have to go through us."

"That is agreeable," she responded, and leapt forward.

Activating his armor, Vincent sidestepped the attack, grabbing the would-be heroine and diverting her towards Blood. To anyone else it would look like he were trying to knock his partner down, but the two of them had worked this out weeks ago. Blood did his fire-breath routine, sending out a cone of fire hot enough to melt steel, but the girl took to the air, dodging the worst of the flames.

"I see," she called out from on high, "You are more than just vandals and arsonists. Very well, I will not hold back."

She came at him and Vin rolled under her, grabbing her ankle and swinging her around. He laughed while smacking her on the ground, "You call yourself 'Wonder Girl', probably to honor that fool, Robby Trevor. But guess what, girl; I've faced off against Wonder Boy, and you're nothing like him."

He leapt, bringing his knee down on her stomach. Grabbing her hair he pulled her to her feet and gave her a head-butt that sent her staggering backwards, followed up by a kick to the sternum. Vin'd spent endless hours dreaming up what he'd do if he could fight Wonder Boy again.

Blood leapt on top of her, his hands burning, and the girl caught his wrists as the psychotic metahuman foamed, "I'm going to burn your clothes off, girly, and then I'm going to rape you, and then I'm going to cook you . . . oof."

He would have gone on about how he was going to eat her – Blood's typical rant – but the girl had kneed the crazy pyrokinetic in the family jewels. While his partner rolled away cupping his groin Vin came forward laughing, "You're like Wonder Boy when I first fought him – no sense of his powers, no control – but that idiot at least had priorities, the first being to help others. He never would have tried to go toe to toe with anyone while lives were at stake."

The girl's eyes went to the family who had given up trying to save the little corner market that had been the livelihood of their family for four generations. Granted, none of them were in physical danger, but Bobby would have tried to put out the fire first, especially since it threatened all the buildings around it. He realized that comparing her to Wonder Boy was having a psychological effect on her, so he pressed on: "Face it, girl, you could never be half the hero he was."

She tried to get to her feet, and Vin moved forward, planting a fist in her stomach. Following up, he punched her on the side of the head and then grabbed her belt and drove her face first into the ground. With one follow-up kick that sent her flying into a parked car, Vin went over to Blood and helped the other teen to his feet. He could hear sirens in the distance, and the little twilight tussle was going to attack the attention of heroes who actually knew what they were doing.

Blood hobbled along as they made their escape.

***WB2/6***

Using the Gloves of Atlas, Donna was able to extricate herself from the car only to find herself facing her worst fear. Floating down from one of the Justice League's fleet of high-tech jets was her sister, Diana, joined by three other heroes. She recognized Shyera, the Thanagarian who'd betrayed her own people to protect the Earth, but the others were all teenagers younger than herself.

There was a girl wearing a blue, long-sleeved top that left her abdomen exposed, featuring a white star on the breast and three more on the sleeves, knee-length shorts with a clunky red belt, and tall boots with red laces. She was wearing a blue domino mask and carrying a golden staff. The third member of the group was wearing a yellow body suit with a red exoskeleton and yellow tinted goggles, a red lightning bolt centered on the chest.

"Donna," Diana gasped, looking furious, "What are you doing here, sister? You are supposed to be on Themyscira, preparing for the Ceremony of Sisterhood."

"I . . . I am on my sojourn," Donna lied, referencing the practice of potential Amazons venturing into Man's World one last time to determine if they would prefer to live out a mortal life or accept Sisterhood."

Diana narrowed her eyes, but didn't argue. She looked over to where the duo of teen heroines were dealing with the fire. The one with the staff had opened a fire hydrant and was directing the spray into the building while the one with the exoskeleton was flashing in and out of the building, saving what she could.

She hung her head in shame, realizing that her focus had been entirely off – she should have taken care of the people first.

"We will discuss this later, sister, but for the time being I am glad to have you along," Diana relented, leaning forward to embrace the teenager. "We are headed to Egypt – it's the best clue we have to finding Bobby."

Donna turned her head away, feeling the jealousy flare inside of her.

"Oh, Donna," her sister sighed. "You are my sister, I love you. I love you just as much as I love him, and in exactly the same way, but I never wanted this for you."

"You . . . you said that you wanted me to be your partner, your successor some day," the teen wept.

"I wanted you to become an ambassador, Donna, not a warrior," Diana answered.

"You want Bobby to be the warrior," Donna accused. "Well, fine, you want to find him, do it on your own."

With that said, the teen kicked off and started flying west, not really sure where she was going.

***WB2/6***

"I could have handled that better," Diana admitted to Shyera as she buckled into the copilot's seat. Behind them, the three teenagers were buckling in as well. "I never wanted this life for my sister, not after seeing what it cost Bobby."

"She loves you," her winged friend responded. "In a way, Donna reminds me of Hro's little sister. She idolized me, and I let her down."

"What happened to her?" the Amazon wondered.

"She was with the assault force," Shyera shrugged, "But I don't know what happened to her after they were routed." Diana could tell that the other woman regretted not knowing.

Diana changed the subject by turning to the only male member of the group. "Robin, Egypt?"

"That's right. We found a type of clay on the hull that can only be found in the Nile," he answered.

'We' were himself and his mentor, Bat-Man, who was widely considered the World's Greatest Detective. Diana trusted their findings and typed in the coordinates. "What do we know about the people who took him?" she asked.

"There's no reliable information," Tim answered, but when he said 'reliable' she knew that there was information. "What I do have comes from The Question."

Well, that would explain his use of the word 'reliable'.

He went on, "According to The Question, we're looking for a group of female mercenaries called the 'Bana-Mighdall'. They always travel in groups of three, and typically there are only three active in the world at any one time. If that's true then they broke that rule to capture Bobby, because the sub-driver with the Juicer you captured was also one of them."

"How can you be sure, Al?" Courtney asked, using the assumed name that Tim had given the girls.

"Because, though isolated, both the sub-driver and the Toxin user committed suicide in the same way," the young detective answered.

"Morbid," Jessica responded. "But what would these Bana-Mighdall," she looked to Tim to see if she got the name right, "want with Wonder Boy? I mean, he lost his bracer six months ago, and Doctor Gottfried never made another one."

Everyone blinked at the speedster, probably wondering how the girl who'd volunteered for this mission without even knowing what it was about suddenly knew so much. "What?" Jessica demanded, "Did you really think I was going to fly into this mission blind? I sped-read everything the Justice League has on Robert Trevor-Barnes five times while the rest of you were packing. Granted, I forget stuff easily when I do that, that's why I read the files so many times."

Summarizing, Jessica announced, "Robert Steven 'Bobby' Trevor-Barnes, middle name for his paternal grandfather, first name for his maternal grandfather, 17 years old. While exploring the basement of his mother's great-uncle's estate he discovered the 'Power-Shackle', a highly advanced piece of techno-magic designed to give the wearer superhuman abilities. While wearing it, Robert had the ability to lift 10 tons, to fly at subsonic speeds, and to heal at a rate that made it seem he'd never been injured in the first place. Unfortunately, the device was flawed and could not be removed once put on."

She went on, "Dubbed 'Wonder Boy' by the media because his first outing as a superhero was aiding Wonder Woman in bringing down a Toxin-enhanced bank robber, Robert was reluctant to use his powers, preferring to try to live a semblance of a normal life. After an altercation with a Toxin-enhanced socially-confused jock, he was coerced by his mother and the Chief of Police into taking up the heroes' calling. He quickly became a media darling, with a fan following that rivaled that of Superman – especially among teenage girls."

At this, she blushed, confirming that even Jessica Chambers had been taken with the boy. "In battle with an Omega-Level threat calling himself 'Black Adam', Robert sacrificed himself to slow the being down long enough for him to be depowered. However, in the backlash the Power-Shackle was destroyed and Robert willfully drew the Elemental forces that had been powering the bracer into himself rather than let them wreak havoc on the countryside. This act is estimated to have saved a million lives."

Diana shivered at the coldness of the report. Jessica finished up with, "Final analysis of the Shackle showed a combination of Toxin and three rare types of kryptonite, which were used to contain the Elementals: Ifrit, Geos and Zephyr."

The silence was broken with Courtney pointing out, "Wasn't Zephyr the playful wind that helped Psyche and Cupid?"

Diana explained, "Wind elementals are playful, but like a child with autism they don't understand when their play becomes destructive. Only major Elementals are named. If Doctor Gottfried had managed to harness the power of a Water Elemental, like Aquarius, then there's no knowing how powerful Bobby would have been. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Water Elementals are the hardest to contain, being formless they usually find an escape route."

She didn't tell them that five lesser Elementals working together willingly would be as powerful as four major Elementals forced to work together.

"We'll be arriving in Egypt in about 30 minutes," Shyera announced. "We may want to change into something less dramatic so that we can blend in. Robin, you can use the bathroom to change."

"Right," the young man said, taking off his mask and heading to the closet-sized toilet enclosure.

***WB2/6***

Over the course of the next couple weeks Bobby learned a few things about his captors, the first being that Shim'Tar was both name and title. He heard the leader of the Bana-Mighdall addressed both as Shim'Tar and THE Shim'Tar, and figured out that she was the chief of the tribe. The men he shared a cell with wouldn't give specifics, either because they were ignorant or just didn't like him. Bobby couldn't blame them – their rations had been cut in half after his second escape attempt, and then there was the time that someone had tried to wear the Crown of Antipole.

The first instance he'd laid on the floor for 3 days until the faux-Amazons started to worry that there was something wrong with him. Putting him on a litter, they'd been taking him to one of their medics when he'd jumped up and leapt off of a balcony, grabbing a clothesline to slow his fall. Unfortunately, the Shim'Tar had suspected him from the start, and had guards with knockout darts at the ready. Still, it had taken three darts to bring him down this time!

After being returned to his cell and being informed that the entire group of men was to be on half-rations for the foreseeable future, one of his cellmates had taken the tiara out of spite.

"You're supposed to be some Prince in the outside world, but here you are a slave like the rest of us," he spat. "Maybe without this you'll figure out where your place is."

That said, the man put the crown on his head, smirking. His face went slack almost immediately, and blood started coming out of his nose and ears. Then he'd keeled over dead. Seeing that, the Bana-Mighdall had taken the man to the infirmary and returned with the diadem to report that the man's brain had been completely liquefied. The warrioress' had pressed the crown back on Bobby's head, and no one else dared take it from him.

His time hadn't been completely idol, though. Each cell was part of a rotating roster of work details – everything from taking water to the baths, to chipping way more living space, to cooking the meals. Apparently providing water to the young trainees was also a detail, but his cell was never allowed on that shift because of Bobby – they didn't want him anywhere near weapons, and the men on that detail usually lounged under the shade with the weapons caches. That didn't earn him any good will either.

Trying to earn some trust Bobby did the most difficult jobs; the most back breaking work, or he did twice as much as the other men. In addition to getting some good will, it also helped strengthen his body for the escape he was still working towards. Unfortunately, most of the attention that earned him was from the other gender, who appraised him eagerly as the time for the ritual drew closer.

He spent all his unsupervised time, which wasn't much, studying his surroundings, trying to get a feel for the guard rotations and the sleeping habits of his cellmates. In the dark of night he experimented with the tiara, but found that it couldn't become any other weapon than a dagger or spear tip. He didn't have to wear it on his head, though; it would become a bracelet or belt buckle. Rather than tip his captors off that he was learning something while they weren't looking he continued to wear it as a crown.

It was about a week until the ceremony when a new prisoner was added to the cell: a familiar looking teenager with spiky black hair and intense blue eyes.

"Tim," Bobby whispered, "Please tell me you're part of a rescue party?"

"Yep," the Boy Wonder responded. "Just wait, the fireworks are about to start."

***WB2/6***

When it came to keeping secrets, the Bana-Mighdall were good, but Tim Drake was better. Nearly six years ago he'd figured out the identities of Bat-Man and Robin, and used that knowledge to get himself off of the streets. His life hadn't been the lap of luxury that he'd expected, no, it had been much, much better, as he'd taken up the mantle of Robin, the Boy Wonder.

He'd started to put the piece together when he learned that teenage boys all across the globe had gone missing, but not just any boys. All were athletic, intelligent, and good looking. None were rich, or affluent, or would get more than a cursory investigation. It was part of a cycle that repeated about every 20 years or so. One of the abducted teenagers had been spotted at the major international airport in Egypt, and by following the trail he'd figured out a rough estimate of where the Bana-Mighdall were hiding.

The plan was fairly simple. He'd sat down with a group of old men and started playing chess while the others touted that he was a prodigy at the game. Chess was one of Bruce's training regimes, so they'd only had to bribe the best of the players to barely lose and it had brought the trio of mercenaries hounding his trail. He liked thinking that these discerning women thought him handsome enough to include in their collection. Still, he didn't have any idea what they were going to do with him.

A sub-dermal transponder, the most powerful that Wayne Enterprises' Technology Division could devise, had been hidden in the fatty tissue of his butt. If the warrior women had some kind of jamming technology then it would still give Wonder Woman, Hawk Girl, Stargirl and Jesse Quick, enough of a location to start a search pattern. With Jessica moving at super-speed and the others searching from the air it wouldn't be long until . . .

BOOM!

Alarms sounded all through the catacombs where the men were being held.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

Dust fell from the ceiling, but the solid stone didn't crack. The guards outside the cells clutched their weapons, unsure of what to do. On one hand, the valley was under attack, but on the other hand they were on guard duty.

Bobby made the first move, surprisingly; he reached through the bars and pulled the guard's head back, hooking her chin on one of the horizontal bars. While the woman fought to get free he unloaded the shotgun she'd had on a sling at the other woman, hitting her with a beanbag round right in the gut, doubling her over. The silly crown he was wearing transformed into a knife, which he used to cut the sling as the first guard got free. Pumping the action, the older teen fired a second beanbag round into the stomach of the first guard.

Using the butt of the rifle, Bobby broke the lock holding the gate closed and then turned the barrel on the others in the cell while Tim stepped out to finish up the guards.

"If this is the life you want, I will not take you from it," Bobby told the other men, "But I imagine that some of you have homes and families that you want to go back to. Those who have a will to leave may follow me, but if you follow me with the intent to recapture me, I will kill you."

From the edge in his friend's voice, Tim had no doubt that Bobby meant what he'd just said, as disturbing as that was.

Bobby took the lead, being more familiar with the caves than Tim was. He led them out to the valley floor where things were not going well for the rescue force. Anti-aircraft cannons were firing flak into the air while Gatling guns targeted Hawk Girl, Wonder Woman and Stargirl. Jesse Quick was moving at super-speed between the weapons caches, setting explosives, but there were a pair of warrior women waiting at the next one with a net. Unloading the last two beanbag rounds into them, Bobby tossed the rifle aside and picked up a staff from a collection of practice weapons. He took off his tiara and placed it against one end of the staff: when he took his hand away the silver wire had affixed itself to the staff on one end of the blue star while the other end had become a bladed edge.

Tim picked up some throwing stars, a few flash bangs, and a staff of his own. From his pocket he pulled out a domino mask and peeling away the back he pressed the adhesive to his face.

"We're leaving," Bobby called out, just as the anti-air weapons went silent. There was a whine of engines, and six women in Toxin Regulators took to the air with jetpacks. They split into teams of two and attacked the airborne Leaguers.

Stargirl went down first, the pair going after her leveling what turned out to be sonic rifles at her. With her concentration disrupted she fell out of the sky like a led weight. Hawk Girl swooped in to catch her, but was struck from behind by another Juicer doing a body-slam. Jesse saw this and turned, running over to where they would land and then running in circles to create a vortex of air to cushion their fall. Shyera was able to get her wings open and use the updraft to bring them both safely to ground, but there they had to face the full numbers of the Bana-Mighdall. Nets were thrown, and a group of young women wrestled Courtney's staff away.

Wonder Woman wasn't so easy to take down – she'd used her magic lasso to twine around the barrel of one sonic cannon and pulled it out of the Juicer's hands. Spinning it over her head, she sent the weapon back to its owner, knocking the jet-powered warrior out of the air. The other had brought her weapon to bear, but the Amazon Princess slammed her bracers together, sending out a wave of sound like a clap of thunder that disrupted the sonic wail. Using the momentary silence, Diana came forward and slapped the woman, pulling the weapon away and then breaking it over her knee.

Tim only had time to take it all in peripherally, because a mass of women had emerged from the carved face of the canyon wielding a collection of weapons from ancient to state-of-the-art. Standing back-to-back with Bobby the two teenagers fended off attacks from tazers and swords. It reminded Tim of when they'd been fighting bullies in grade school, except that neither of them had been more than just brawlers back then.

As Robin, he'd been trained in multiple combat techniques, and not too long ago Tim had been the better fighter hands down. Now it seemed that they were equals, at least when Bobby was using a magical spear as his weapons of choice. Even though he was using a deadly weapon, none of the people that the other boy felled were dead, or even seriously injured.

"Yield!" a commanding voice cried out. The speaker was a woman wearing a crimson version of the Toxin regulation armor with a metallic helmet that had a blank faceplate. She was flanked by another pair of Juicers. One of the warriors had her head partially exposed so that a long red ponytail could stick out of a knot at the back of her head.

She stood next to the three others – Hawk Girl, Stargirl and Jesse Quick – who were being held at knifepoint. "Come down here, or these three die," the leader ordered. "And you men, put down your weapons as well."

Looking around, Tim saw that the situation was desperate. For as many of the soldiers that they'd knocked down there were hundreds more waiting in the wings. Robert pulled his crown from the staff and pressed it to his wrist where the silver metal compressed, gripping his arm. Tossing the staff aside, Bobby stepped through the gathered warrioress' who'd stopped their attacks at their leader's order to stand next to Wonder Woman, who'd landed to avoid the deaths of their companions.

Dropping his own weapons, Tim joined the other two.

"Your lasso," the crimson warrior demanded.

Looking livid, Wonder Woman tossed the Golden Lasso of Truth at the other woman's feet.

"What is this about, Shim'Tar," Bobby demanded.

"The Lariat of Hestia, reforged from the Girdle of Gaea, stolen from Queen Antipole by her sister, Hippolyta," the leader of the Bana-Mighdall announced. In the woman's hands the golden cord became a noose. "We will hang you for your mother's crime, Princess, and then we will wage war against Themyscira. Then, at long last, we will be the only nation of Amazon."

Shim'Tar, or whatever her name was, threw the noose end of the cord at Diana, but Bobby stepped forward and caught it. The golden material coiled in his grasp and knotted again around his throat, drawing tight.

"NO," Diana cried out.

"COUSIN!" another voice shouted, and a new heroine joined the party.

***WB2/6***

Donna flew out of the last rays of the sun and down into the valley. She saw Robert in danger, but knew that she had to save the others first. Changing her flight path, she bowled into the trio of women holding knives to the throats of Hawk Girl and the two teenagers. Jesse Quick recited a mathematical equation and then moved at super-speed to recover the weapons of her companions.

"Stop, all of you, or the boy dies," the woman in red commanded.

Robert was gripping the loop, trying to pull it loose, but Donna knew that it was no good. The Lariat of Hestia had been reforged from the Girdle of Gaea, a last gift to Hippolyta from Antipole when the Amazon nation had been torn in half over the choice of forgoing vengeance in exchange for eternal life. So long as the Earth abided, the golden cord could not be broken.

On his wrist, the blue star of Antipole's crown glowed white, and the knot came undone.

"What, how?" the leader of this strange tribe exclaimed.

Coughing, Robert announced, "I am Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes, descendent of Hippolytus, son of Antipole, and if the Lariat of Hestia has a true master than I am he." The end in the crimson warrioress's hand twisted around her wrists, forming a knot. "KNEEL!" he commanded, and the bound woman dropped to her knees.

"I, I don't understand," a redhead in similar armor to the man she'd fought in New York stammered. "The Lariat has to power to force truth from those caught in it, not to command."

"In the hands of a woman," Diana called back, "It has the power to force the truth, but in the hands of Antipole's heir . . ."

"You are a man," the bound woman spat, "You are not the true heir of Antipole. Only a daughter born of you could claim that title."

"Male, female," Robert spat, "what does gender matter in the long run? I live in a world where a woman is just as capable as a man of doing great things, where men and women work together as equals. The Amazons of Themyscira have come to recognize this, have come to recognize this. Their queen, the sister of the woman you proclaim as Queen all Amazons, seeks to reconcile with man. Yet you would undo that in an instant to fulfill some sense of duty you feel to Antipole; a woman so long dead that you cannot know her reasoning or intent? Who are you to make war on the world?"

The last must have been a true question, because the woman was forced to answer. "I am Faruka, daughter of Anahid," she pronounced, "the last descendant of Phthia, the adopted daughter of Antipole."

This caused a gasp to go around, and the redhead came forward to remove the concealing helmet. "Faruka, what have you done!" the redhead demanded.

"Answer," Robert demanded. "It is obvious that you are not the person these Amazons were expecting to be their leader. What happened to the true Shim'Tar?"

"I killed her," Faruka gasped, trying not to answer and finding herself unequal to the task. "The Shim'Tar grooms her replacement, sending her out to lead the hunt, in finding men to provide the seeds of the next generation, but my mother chose Artemis to lead the hunt instead of me. ME, the inheritor of a bloodline three thousand generations strong which has produced more Shim'Tars than any other! Instead, she chose a girl who was found wandering in the desert. While the hunting party was out, I slipped into my mother's chambers and killed her while she slept. For the past three years I have been the Shim'Tar, and the Amazons of Bana-Mighdall have prospered."

"You are a thief," the one called Artemis accused, "and a coward. If you'd wanted the position then you could have called your mother out to open combat. Instead you slinked in under the cover of darkness and killed your own mother, the woman who gave birth to you."

"The woman who esteemed a stray dog over her own flesh and blood," Faruka spat. "And how could it have ever been a fair fight, while my mother possessed the Girdle of Gaea taken from Theseus. The Girdle I now possess!"

She touched her belt and the red armor changed, becoming the more traditional armor of the Amazons. Grabbing her end, Faruka yanked the cord before Bobby could form a command, and the teenage boy went flying. Everyone called out his name as he flew through the air into a pile of supply crates.

"Donna, help your cousin," her sister called out, going to fight the deranged warrior.

Donna's first reaction was to help her sister, but she checked herself and flew over to broken crates.

***WB2/6***

The young man groaned as he got up, spotting Wonder Woman going toe to toe with the usurper, but Donna also got his attention as she flew over. "Got any extra Pixie-Dust?" he wondered aloud, still a little dazed.

"What?" she asked, not getting the reference at first. "Oh, right, Sandals of Hermes." She looked over at the fight and bit her lower lip. Closing her eyes she pulled one of her bracers off and it transformed into a glove. "These are the Gloves of Atlas; they'll give you super-strength." Removing her belt she added, "This is the Belt of Hercules; it will form a costume."

Her own orange outfit shimmered down to the basic combat outfit of Themysciran Amazons.

She removed her boots and they transformed into sandals. "Take these, Robert. I want to see what Diana saw in you."

He frowned at her, not sure what she meant, but he took the items and put them on. Repositioning the crown he focused his thoughts and felt the magical items shifting. The gloves had changed to bracers, the sandals to boots, and the belt to his old costume. Opening his eyes he focused on the fight that was going on and made his move.

Leaping between the two Amazons he pushed them apart before turning to face Faruka. "Here is the deal, woman. If you can defeat me in fair combat then I will stay, and sire you a daughter."

"Bobby, you can't," Diana argued.

At his held up hand she backed off, leaving him to face his tormentor. "If I win, then you let me and my friends go, and foreswear vengeance for all time."

She was still holding the Lariat of Hestia which she was using as a whip in her agitation. A cruel smile crossed her face as she sneered, "Even a super-powered man is just a man, but the fight must be fair, and for that you will need to remove your flying footwear."

He nodded and removed the sandals, but the belt created boots of their own. Faruka knew that she couldn't use the lasso to bind him, so she used it to strike. He ducked under the lash, trying to get in close while his opponent backed up, trying to stay out of range. Blocking he lash with the gloves/bracers he closed the distance and went hand to hand with the faux-Amazon.

Faruka had been well trained in a form of the Amazon's martial-art, while Bobby was only half trained in the version used by the Amazons of Themyscira, but he also had years of schoolyard brawls and the strange sense he'd been feeling since coming out of the 'Ceremony of Brotherhood'. He jabbed and blocked, kicked and countered, grappled and countered. She was faster, but even with the Girdle of Gaea he was stronger from hours of working a pick and shovel and the Gloves of Atlas, and he also had greater stamina.

When an opening formed he kicked the back of her knee, sending her to one knee, and then punched her in the face when she tried to roll away. Nose broken, Faruka fell back and Robert stripped her of the lasso, using it to bind her arms. Throwing a couple loops around her throat he demanded, "Yield," without using the power of the lariat.

"NEVER, I will not yield to a man!" the spat.

Stepping forward, Artemis demanded, "You have been defeated, Faruka; and you swore an oath. You will yield or you will be banished as an honorless dog."

Faruka spat at the redhead and admitted, "I'd rather be banished than put in a cage with the men." Which was probably the punishment for killing her mother, Bobby figured.

Nodding, Artemis ordered, "Bind her, and remove the Girdle of Gaea."

When they had her thoroughly bound he removed the lariat and handed it back to Diana, who took it reverently. Turning back, Bobby found himself being presented the belt the woman had worn. He looked at it for a moment and then looked Artemis in the eyes.

"This was an honor battle, and you won," the Bana-Mighdall announced. "As such, this now belongs to you."

Considering it he shook his head and answered, "That belongs to Queen Hippolyta. After the death of Antipole your ancestors should have gone to her and joined the other Amazonians. I leave it to you to return it to its proper owner."

"You name us all thieves," the redhead spat.

"I name you children," he answered. "It's time that you grew up and did the right thing because it's the right thing."

"Stay," Artemis requested.

He shook his head, pulling off the gloves and belt, returning to his normal appearance. Bobby handed these back to Donna as he told her, "I have a life in a world where men and women stand together as equals. Goodbye, Artemis."

Diana stepped forward and explained, "There's a reason that there are no female descendants of Antipole. The curses placed upon her by the Gods are still in effect. All daughters die, usually horribly; you would have called down a curse upon your people."

Artemis paled as the heroes turned to leave.

***WB2/6***

Faruka stared up at the jet as it lanced across the desert, feeling an abiding anger filling her. Behind her a group of warrioress' ran towards her, and she turned to face them. As they approached, though, the dozen or so women slowed to a stop forming ranks and knelt.

This pleased Faruka but she didn't smile at the group. "Why have you come?" she demanded. "I am banished. To see me and not kill me means that you'll now share my fate."

At the lead, one warrior barked, "We'd rather be banished than make peace with cowards. You are the true Shim'Tar, not that mongrel, Artemis."

Nodding, Faruka gestured them to stand and took an extra kit of weapons that one of them was carrying. She then turned, calling out, "Column, advance. We have a world to rule."

End Chapter Six: Taken


	7. Titan

LeoN: This story is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real people or situations is either unintentional or more likely because I used your appearance or situation in a character. Most characters are copyrighted by DC Comics and are used without their permission, but no money will come from this posting so please don't sue me.

Author's Note: I've been misspelling Antiope's name as Antipole.

Wonder Boy – Part II: Powerless

Chapter Seven: Titan

The room Bobby stayed in on Paradise Island had once been a storage closet in the Temple of Hermes, the only male god allowed on the island. He'd been offered a place in the Queen's palace, but knew that many Amazons were still resistant to having him on the island, let alone their leader's home. So he'd taken up a place in the smallest, most out of the way temple on the island. It was a nice place, though.

It was narrow, about 7 feet wide, so he'd wedged a pair of staffs at eye level between the two walls and lashed a cot to them with a ladder leading up to it. The floor he'd decked out with carpets and pillows for lounging, a selection of books stacked in one corner. Photos were stuck to the wall with silly putty showing the best of his time from the summer he'd spent with on the island in the Aegean, and several other trophies were tucked here and there. His diadem hung from the forward staff while he packed his bags.

Born Robert Steven Trevor, the young man, now 17, had been called 'Bobby' by his grandpa as a baby, and the nickname had stuck. Since that time his father, Daniel Trevor, had died in the line of duty as a police Detective and his mom had remarried a High School friend named Nathan Barnes. Now Bobby Trevor-Barnes, the young man had become a hero called Wonder Boy when he found a piece of Techno-Magic in the hidden workspace of his mom's recently deceased Great-Uncle, Eugene Gottfried, and foolishly put it on. It had granted him superhuman strength and agility, and the power of flight, but it had also brought with it a responsibility that no 16 year-old should have to shoulder.

After a showdown with a magically enhanced megalomaniac calling himself 'Black Adam', Bobby had been left with an Elemental imbalance that forced him to move at a shuffling walk with the aid of a cane. Over the past summer he'd undergone a ceremony that had removed three of the most powerful Elementals in nature from his body. Most found his lack of superpowers disappointing, but Bobby wasn't going to argue. He was finally going to be able to be a normal teenager again!

His bag packed, the young man stood and considered the diadem. Called the Crown of Antiope it was a decorative headband of thick silver wire centered on a blue star. He'd meant to leave it behind, but giving it a second thought he took the object and placed the tiara to his wrist and the metal moved to tighten around his arm. The young man knew from use that the magical object would conform to whatever limb he pressed it to, and could also sharpen on one side of the blue star to form a dagger.

Grabbing his old cane he hooked the strap of his backpack with the end and braced it over his shoulder as he stepped down the path towards the courtyard. A Javelin Aero-Spacecraft had been sent to collect not only Bobby but his 'cousin', Diana, as well. Known to the world as Wonder Woman, Princess Diana of Themyscira was a beautiful woman with shiny black hair and ice-blue eyes. She was wearing her patriotic, and revealing, base armor – a star-spangled blue bottom, red topped one-piece that looked like a shoulder-less swimsuit with a metal double W over her breasts. Heeled red boots with a white strip up the front, silver bracers and a golden tiara, finished her 'costume'.

Several Amazons had come to see him go, a few, he knew, were glad to see the back of him. Twenty wore full armor and stood in two columns between him and the aircraft, their spears at their sides. As he approached, the warrioress' lifted their spears over their heads and touched them, point to the point of the Amazon across from them. He'd only seen this kind of thing in the movies, and only for military weddings. Figuring it was a sign of honor he passed under the blades to where Diana, her mother, Queen Hippolyta, and her adopted sister, Donna.

He passed under the last spear and bowed to the Queen. "Aunt Hippolyta, thank you for hosting me this summer. I enjoyed my time here."

When he came up the woman hugged him.

Turing, Bobby bowed to the honorguard, saying, "Thank you for this great honor."

They brought their spears down to the ready positions at the same time to create a uniform 'crack'! Again turning to the royal personages, he received hugs from his 'cousins'. His relationship to them was a little difficult to explain. Diana had been created from clay and given life by the goddess' of Olympus, but he'd been told that genetically the Princess and her mother were almost clones despite the fact that the Queen was blonde. On top of that, there were about 3000 years between himself and his cousin.

Smiling, the Queen announced, "The heir of my sister is always welcome on Themyscira."

Her sister, Antiope, had earned the curse of the gods when she'd chosen revenge over immortality. Aphrodite had sent her son Eros, to make the first Queen of the Amazons to fall in love with the man who'd once enslaved her – Theseus. Another, unnamed goddess, had make it so that any girl-child born of Antiope's heirs would die, normally in childbirth – abandoned by Hestia.

Male children didn't have this curse, allowing for a line of sons extending back between Bobby and Hippolytus, Antiope's only child. That bloodline was the only reason that he could wear the Crown of Antiope without it sending silver wires into the brain and scrambling the gray-matter. His bloodline also allowed him to use the crown's other abilities (resizing and sharpening).

The announcement was a pointed reminder to those who didn't care for him that Bobby was the only ancient exception to the law that no man was allowed to come to the island. "Thank you," he told her, giving his aunt another hug. "I'll miss all of you."

Diana had her secret smile on, which usually meant that she was up to mischief, as she ruffled his hair. "We'd better get going, Bobby, or we're going to be late."

Bobby looked at the sun and compared the time of their departure to what he knew of the Javelin's average cruising speed. From what he figured they would get to West Brook about 7 in the morning local time. It was going to be a long day.

Shrugging, the young man boarded the spaceship to find a redheaded man in the pilot's seat. "Hey Pat," Bobby called out.

Pat Dugan was the stepfather of Courtney Whitmore, otherwise known as Stargirl. He was an interesting guy – he looked to be in his mid thirties, but he'd been born in 1916. Hired by the Pemberton family as a mechanic he'd followed around their heir apparent, Sylvester Pemberton, when he'd decided to fight criminals and Nazi spies. In the aftermath of fighting a cosmic entity he'd been thrown back in time to ancient Egypt where he'd been recovered, decades later, by Batman during one of the Justice League's early missions.

"Hey, Bobby," the man called back. "Why don't you come up here and take the co-pilot's seat?"

Looking to Wonder Woman for permission, Bobby moved to the offered seat and buckled himself into the five-point harness. "So, how's Courtney?" Bobby wondered as he flicked a couple switches on his side of the aircraft that the man couldn't reach.

Pat gave Diana a knowing smile before answering, "She's doing fine, Bobby. Actually, she's been asking about you."

"Well, tell her I said hi," Bobby responded, frowning at the expression the two adults shared. He'd been in a chemically induced coma the last time he'd traveled by Javelin, so this time he took in the full experience. In order to reach top speeds the shuttle had to reach an altitude where it wouldn't encounter any other aircraft, or much atmosphere, for that matter. With the world far below the blue sky turned black and the continent of Europe beneath them was replaced by the Atlantic Ocean.

Looking to the adults, Bobby reached out to the environmental controls and asked the adults, "Can I?"

They both knew what he wanted and nodded his permission. Increasing the inertial compensator up to full caused the gravity in the cabin to go to zero. Unbuckling his harness, the young man entertained himself in the weightless environment for about 15 minutes before he had to return back to his seat.

Bleeding off speed as they entered the atmosphere, the aero-spacecraft slowed as it angled towards the East Coast of the continental United States. The young man noted that they were too far south for New York, and as they slowed he figured that the landing spot would be an island off the coast of Virginia. Pat throttled back and made to land at the foot of an office tower, the only building taller than two stories in a town that looked to be completely abandoned.

"Come on, Bobby," Diana said, taking off her seatbelt, "Your friends have been asking for you."

Curious, he took off his harness and followed his former mentor down the ramp. A group of five young heroes between the ages of 15 and 19 had come out of the tower. Tempest, Garth, was the nephew of Aquaman and had the power to control water. Stargirl, Courtney Whitmore, was Pat Dugan's stepdaughter, possessed a staff that converted ambient cosmic energy into telekinetic force. Robin, secretly Tim Drake, was the teenage ward of Bruce Wayne, who moonlighted as the vigilante, Batman. Jesse Quick, Jessica Chambers, used a harness designed by her father – who worked with the Flash – to tap into the 'Speed Force', granting her superhuman speed. Arsenal, Roy Harper, was the former teen sidekick of Green Arrow, and was said to be even faster on the draw than his mentor.

Robin called out, "Welcome to Titan's Tower!"

"You're kidding right," Bobby responded, even as he went to give the girls hugs and shake the guys hands. "'Titan's Tower? Couldn't you call it Othris Tower, gone with the theme?"

They all laughed in good fellowship.

Diana explained, "The Titans wanted to show you their new base of operations before it was officially announced."

"Come on, we'll give you the grand tour," Courtney called out, jokingly picking up a tour-guide's staff. "If you'll come this way . . ."

***WB2/7***

Tim smiled as his friend noted, "Didn't they use this place as a set for 'The Mind Hunters'?"

Garth explained, "The Island was owned by the US Navy, and used to train Marines in urban combat. My uncle purchased it to give him more pull with the US government, but really had no use for it, so he's letting us use the tower."

Entering the foyer the tour stopped as Robert stared in disgust at one of the displays that had been set up. A dummy had been placed in a roped off area wearing one of his old costumes, a pair of painted PVC bracers over its forearms and a simple red belt across its waist. Tim knew exactly what his friend was going to say, and smirked when he heard it.

"Now I know you're joking," the teenager lamented as he examined the display. "You know I'm not dead, right?"

Courtney explained, "Even though there were teen heroes before you there were none who ever caught the public's imagination the way you did. We put this up as a reminder of what were aspiring to while we're trying to become full heroes."

He rolled his eyes and explained, "You are full heroes; it's just that you don't act like it most of the time."

"Yea, well, we voted and decided to set it up," Roy argued. "If, however, you were to take up the mantle again . . ."

It was a pretty leading question, but Roy was a very direct kind of guy, like his former partner.

Robert held up his arms, showing that there were no bracers on either, just the magical Crown of Antiope on his wrist. Batman had made Tim do a full report on the Crown, but there hadn't been much to go off of. It had a tragic history, killing anyone who dared to wear it – man and woman alike – and languishing in a Greek museum's archive room until it had been purchased by a private collector about two months ago. The fact that it hadn't liquefied Robert's brain, or driven his body to bone cracking seizures was proof that he was related to the long deceased co-Queen of the Amazons.

"Sorry," Robert told the group, "But no flights, no tights."

Courtney was disappointed and Roy was resigned, while the other two had no opinion either way. The vote to set up the display had been three to one, with Garth abstaining as he had no opinion either way.

"Moving on," Courtney called out and led the way to the elevators. "This tower was set up as an observation post, armory and dormitory, but we're going to remodel most of the floors into rooms. We want the tower to be a place where young heroes and heroines, like us, can come to relax away from the pressures of hero-dom and just be teenagers. But, in order to get our charter approved we had to agree to training with the Justice League and First Responders, just like we were doing back at Metro Tower."

"That's good," Robert noted, "You should use that as a selling point. The public will be reassured if they know that you're training to aid, not to react, in the event of a crisis. One of the reasons that West Brook, or even the County accepted me was because I was receiving training in clerical duties – the liked the idea that I was being taught procedure first."

"Wait, so you never busted criminals?" Jessica demanded.

Laughing, the young man pointed out, "There's not much crime in West Brook. I did get to follow around Chief Brown when he was investigating a home invasion and robbery."

"Wow, so, I have more crime-fighting experience than you," the girl cheered, much to Courtney's annoyance.

Shrugging, Robert pointed out, "The one criminal I tracked down is still in jail, while the criminals you trash weekly typically get off on technicalities. So, if we look at it that way, I've got more crime-stopping experience than you. There's no such thing as immediate justice, and if there is then it's a fleeting thing."

That shut the speedster up, and she fell to the back of the group as they got in the elevator. Most of the work was being done over the weekdays, while the teenagers were mostly there on the weekends. Several rooms had been set up, with plenty of soundproofing in the walls to keep the quick-tempered from getting on each other's nerves. While some teens might actually come to the tower to live, most would be weekenders, but everyone would have a room that they could decorate to their own personal aesthetics without parental disapproval.

The cafeteria was still sparse as they didn't have a staff of chefs to cook anything. The pantry was stocked, though, as was the fridge, with just about every foodstuff and snack that a growing teenager could want. From the kitchen the tour ended in an entire floor dedicated to a single computer, or rather, a series of servers all dedicated to the same program.

"It's called the Oracle System," Robin explained while pulling his cape closed around him. Even with insulated glass separating the servers from a comparatively small operator's booth it was cold in the room. "It's the same system that runs the Watch Tower. While not running life-support or power management, the computer can monitor worldwide communications and alert us to the types of emergency aid situations that we should be focusing on."

Robert didn't miss a beat as he twirled the operator's seat, commenting, "So do you guys take turns on Monitor Duty?"

"Well," Courtney stepped forward, "That's kind of where we're wondering if you'd step in. We'd still like to have you around, even if you aren't Wonder Boy."

He turned the chair and sat down, considering the trio of Titan's – Arsenal and Tempest had stayed in the kitchen – in a passable impersonation of Batman brooding. "I suppose 'Al'," Bobby said, using Tim's assumed name, "already knows, but I was planning on studying computer programming this year. With my . . . handicap, I figured I'd focus on the Cyber Crimes branch of Law Enforcement."

Good old Robert, Robin thought as his friend considered. Robert had wanted to be a police officer ever since he'd been 4, watching as his father proudly put on a suit and tie rather than the patrolman's uniform Daniel Trevor had worn since graduating the Police Academy. Thirteen years and a few life-changing events later and he still wanted to be like his dad, his hero. Robin felt the same way, but his hero was Dick Grayson, not Batman.

"I'll do this, but I want to be a weekender, not on the active roster. If something happens during the week you don't call me. On the weekends I'll man the Oracle," he announced, staring down the trio.

"Great," Jessica scoffed, "I guess we'll call you 'Oracle' then."

Cringing, Robert considered, "No, I think I want to be called 'Delphi', after the Temple to Apollo."

The rest of the tour was general knowledge, ending back outside. Robin explained, "We plan to use the ghost-town for practice in urban combat – trying to reduce the damage we do when we're fighting the bad guys."

Everyone looked at Courtney, who blushed and argued, "Hey, I've kept the damage under $10K for the past six weeks!"

That got laughs from the rest of the Titans.

Wonder Woman was waiting inside the Javelin, and Bobby turned towards her saying, "I'll see you guys next weekend."

"See you, Bobby," they all waved as he walked up the ramp.

***WB2/7***

Pat had disembarked at the tower, leaving Diana alone with her former protégé. She ruminated over what she was about to do, worried that it was the wrong thing, or if it she'd have done it sooner. Bringing the Javelin in for a landing on the helicopter pad and took her time powering down the engines, but finally she couldn't ignore the problem at hand.

"Bobby, before you go I want to give you something," She told him, stopping him from hitting the ramp switch. From a compartment she pulled out an eerily similar to the one he'd put on almost a year ago. Diana could clearly see the shock in his eyes.

Diana explained, "This bracer is both similar to, and different from, your Power Shackle. Hephaestus both inspires, and is inspired by mortals. In this case, as Doctor Gottfried worked on your first Shackle, the god worked on this one. Compared to your original, this one is better balanced and more powerful, but they both bear the same flaw – once put on, it won't come off."

He considered the slightly golden tone of the metal, the four stars and the alien spells written on the edges. The plate was attached to a mesh of metal that would close around his arm when he put it on.

Trembling, Robert pushed it away, telling her, "I don't want it; please, give it someone else."

"I can't," she answered. "During your Ceremony of Brotherhood I used the bracer to absorb the majority of the gifts that the gods offered you. No one but you can access it's power."

Diana went on, "I'd meant to present you the bracer in front of your friends, but . . . I don't want you to feel pressured to become Wonder Boy again. The last time you had no choice, to have powers or be a hero, but this time you'll be able to choose both, or neither. Please, Bobby, I'm not going to judge your choice; if being Delphi is enough for you then I will accept that, but if you ever want to be Wonder Boy, I'll support you."

Robert took the bracer and slipped it into his backpack. "I choose to make no choice, for now," he answered.

***WB2/7***

Samantha Barnes stood in the yard outside the library, looking east and cradling her month old infant in her arms. Daniel Trevor Barnes was a healthy baby boy, her second child but the first with her new husband, Nathan Barnes. He had silky brown hair and blue eyes and the most apologetic cry she'd ever heard. She cradled her new son while waiting to introduce Daniel to his older brother, Robert, for the first time.

She'd felt bad when she'd sent him to Themyscira, feeling like she was being a bad mother for not going with him. The reality was though that the Amazons of Paradise Island knew nothing about child birth, and nine months pregnant she couldn't have risked one baby's health for the other. When she'd heard that Robert's balancing problem had been cured Sam had been so relieved that she'd gone into labor. Daniel had been born just an hour later, proving to be the easier of her sons to bring into this world despite two close calls early in the pregnancy.

A sliver of light shimmered on the horizon, which grew into the profile of a Javelin Space-plane, which angled for the helicopter pad that her great-uncle had included in the renovations ten years ago. While the engines powered down a group of hotel patrons gathered.

Her great-uncle, Eugene Gottfried, had left her the family estate, and she, with the help of her husband, had converted it into a Bed and Breakfast. Since the hotel in town had burned down in what started as a bed fire, the Gottfried Estate House had become the only place to stay in West Brook. They'd groomed hiking, biking and riding trails through the thick woods, stocked the lake with fish, and put a child fence around the indoor pool. Before the invitation to visit the isle of the Amazons then plan had been for Robert to play Librarian, but Sam had done that job over the summer instead.

The ramp lowered, but Robert didn't come down immediately. Instead a wooden cane skittered down the ramp, coming to stop at Sam's feet. Robert followed, walking upright without the aid of the cane, beaming in a way that the mother hadn't seen in nearly 8 months. Daniel was burbling up at her, probably woken by her sobs of happiness, and she smiled down at him to reassure the baby.

Robert didn't hesitate as he came forward to give her a hug.

"Robert, I'd like you to meet your little brother, Daniel Trevor Barnes," she said, handing the baby over.

The big brother took the baby and cradled him, saying, "Hey there, Danny; I'm Bobby, your big brother."

Daniel frowned up in concentration at his brother, and Robert did the strangest thing. He his hand to his mouth and spoke through his palm, "Hello, hello in there, I'm your brother, Bobby."

Her baby smiled suddenly, and started burbling back as if they were the best of friends just catching up after spending a weekend apart. It was heartwarming. Nathan had come out at the sound of the jet, and stood at her side, giving her a one-armed hug as they watched their sons bonding.

Wonder Woman came down the ramp, smiling joyously at the sight. As far as Sam knew there were no infants on Themyscira, no children, even, as all the residents were immortal warriors.

"He's beautiful," the Amazon gushed. "What's his name?"

"Danny," Robert announced before Sam could give his proper name. She knew better than to argue, even if she insisted on using full names. Her first husband, Daniel Trevor, had liked to use pet names, too, and she'd come to think of herself as Sam, instead of Samantha, over the course of their marriage.

"It's getting cold," Sam excused as she took her baby back. "Would you like to come in for some tea, Diana?"

The princess nodded, saying, "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

***WB2/7***

With a sigh Nate wondered what his step-son had gotten himself into this time. Robert had been getting himself in and out of trouble for years, and over the course of their relationship the man had learned better than to step rashly into a conversation. "Tell me the specifics, son," Nate requested, trying not to express his frustration.

"Its weekends only, and all I'll be doing is running the monitor," the young man explained calmly. "The Oracle System is a supercomputer with limited access to building schematics, tracking programs, and security protocols. While the team is in the field I'll be supplying informational support."

"So you'll be talking people through burning buildings?" the man wondered.

Robert nodded. "That's part of it."

Princess Diana offered, "Mr. Terrific has outfitted some of his 'T-spheres' to work with the Oracle; they are capable of projecting holographic images for pre-planning. He'll be able to lead other teen though burning buildings," she gestured to Nate, "but these spheres are also capable of projecting Force Fields, meaning that Bobby will be able to come to his teammate's rescue if needed."

Samantha came in from feeding Daniel and handed the baby to Nate to burp. Two years as a step-father hadn't prepared the man for being a birth-father, but he insisted on being as involved as possible. Burping, changing diapers, rocking the baby back to sleep, whatever it took to form a true connection with his son; and that applied to Robert, too, though there would be no burping or changing diapers there.

"So, support only?" Samantha asked, bringing up the point that she'd missed. "Have you thought up a moniker, or are you going to go with what the media assigns when they find out?"

The young man answered, "I'm going with 'Delphi' right now, but I'm hoping to keep the media out of my life this time."

Frowning, the mother pointed out, "I don't know if that's going to be possible. I passed two people in the hall just now that were talking on their cell phones about how you were 'cured'. There's going to be speculation that you got your powers back, so I think the time to reach out to the media would be now."

His shoulders slumping, Robert nodded his consent.

"I'll call Cynthia Jenkins in the morning – she's trying to get an internship with the Daily Planet, and I think this exclusive could put her career into gear," Samantha offered.

Cynthia Jenkins was in her first year of college, having graduated from West Brook's high school three months before. She'd covered all of Robert's interviews for the school's paper and webpage, causing something of a buzz as professional newspapers had paid top dollar to reprint the interviews or link their websites to the schools'. The computer server that Doctor Gottfried's money had bought had barely be up to the task from the number of hits the site received.

Robert agreed, relieved at the thought of a familiar face doing the interview, and maybe eager to see Cynthia again – she was a beautiful young woman, if memory served.

"I'm tired," Robert announced, getting up. "Any chance I can have my old room back?"

"I had the cleaners go through the attic weekly," his mother agreed. "Let's get you some linens though."

***WB2/7***

The little apartment was just the way it had been the last time Bobby had been up there. Originally the space had been living quarters for the maids who'd maintained the massive house, but the Uncle Gene had replaced the need to a house staff with his bachelor's ways and a tendency to tinker. Most of the cleaning was done by robots, with the new maids responsible to making beds and running the wash.

When they'd first moved in the young man had made a claim for the attic, having always enjoyed being able to see further from higher up. He'd knocked down some of the plywood walls, rearranged others, and ended up with a two bedroom space with a bathroom and sitting room: his own small apartment. After his accident he hadn't been able to reach the attic and had ended up staying in a portioned off section of the Library. Now that he was healed, the young man was more than ready to take up residency in his apartment again.

Putting his clothes in the closet the young man made his bed and climbed in, not looking forward to the interview. From his bag he pulled out the bracer, examining the Thanagarian spells etched into the magic resistant metal. He hated the thing, hated the power it offered, hated the temptation it represented, and hated himself for being tempted by that power.

It was said that power corrupted, and that absolute power corrupted absolutely, but it was also said that with power there came a responsibility to use that power to help others. As Wonder Boy he would have the power to help others, but as Delphi he would have the power to aid other heroes. There was honor in that, too; a lot of honor.

Sighing, he put the bracer back, figuring that he'd leave it at Titan's Tower when he went there over the weekend.

***WB2/7***

Cynthia Jenkins was surprised to get the invite. She'd gone straight from graduating high school to her first semester of college, and had been in the middle of her break between the Summer and Autumn classes. The Gottfried Estate House hadn't changed much from the times that Robert Trevor had invited the Journalism Club. Like then, she found herself in the library enjoying tea with Samantha Barnes.

"I'm so glad that you could come," Robert's mom enthused as she set out the tea service.

"Thanks for the invite, Mrs. B," the young woman responded, taking her tea and taking a whiff of the bouquet. She took a sip before adding just a little honey. Cynthia wanted to ask why she was here, but knew that propriety wouldn't allow her to cut to the chase. "How have you been, Mrs. Barnes? How is the baby?"

"Daniel's fine," the woman responded, "But it's actually my other son that I wanted to talk to you about."

As if on cue, Robert came into the library complaining, "I can't believe it. Those kids in room 44 tore the spine of this book to get at the tracking device!" Seeing his mom with company, the young man looked genuinely embarrassed. "Oh, hey Cynthia; mom said she'd be giving you a call, but I didn't think that you'd be here this fast."

"Bobby, you're walking!" she cheered, getting up to take in the fact that her friend, and favorite subject, wasn't using a cane.

"Yea, I noticed," he quipped, coming around to sit with his mom.

"So," Cynthia wondered, "How did it happen?"

He gestured toward her purse, where she kept her recorder, and realizing why she was there the young woman pulled out the device and pressed record. Robert explained everything, from the last day of school to the night of the ceremony, or what he remembered of it, filling in the gaps with what other people had told him. "What about your powers?" Cynthia asked, imagining the headline if she were to be the first to report on the return of Wonder Boy.

Robert shook his head, telling her, "The powers didn't come back, but that's not the end of my hero career. You've heard of the Titans?"

"The group of teenagers in the Justice League, yea, I've heard of them," she answered.

"They've invited me to join them in an advisory and support capacity," he explained. "I'll be pulling monitor duty on the weekends with the moniker of 'Delphi', for the Temple of Apollo where the Oracle resided."

Cynthia grasped the situation, stating, "That will certainly calm the naysayers. Not everyone on Capitol Hill is convinced that having a team of teen heroes is a good idea, but with you in their numbers, even in a support function, well . . . from what I've been able to tell they're still using your example as a 'Teen hero done right', but there are a couple of Titan's without superpowers, who why the support role?"

"I'm not a crack-shot with a bow, or a master of martial-arts, in a fight I'd only get in the way," he admitted sheepishly, either not liking to admit it or not admitting everything. "Besides, the point is to help other young heroes gain the trust of the public. That can't be done by leading, but by supporting. So, that's what I'm doing."

She rolled her eyes. It was easy to believe that this young man was disingenuous, that he was hiding things like any normal teenager would, but the fact was that Robert Trevor had been raised to say what he believed without cutting corners. "So, now that you're mobile do you have any plans to put together another coffee-table book?"

"I'd like to, actually," Robert responded, pleased at the reference to his other great work. At 15 he'd had a collection of photographs published as a way to support his mother during the dark times after his biological dad's death. From what Cynthia understood Samantha and Nathan had re-met at a book signing.

With what she had Cynthia figured that she could get her byline in the superhero section or the teen-interests section of The Daily Planet. A sudden thought hit her, and she asked, "Can I interview the rest of the Titans?"

He frowned and considered. "That's a good idea," he finally admitted, "But it would have to be on invitation only. I'll bring it up over the weekend."

"Thanks, Bobby," she enthused; "I think it would be good for the rest of the Titans to get a chance to say their peace, even if they don't want to go maskless."

If she could interview the other Titans then she could open a dialog with both the teens and the adults which could launch her career. A series of interviews with the Titans, followed up with interviews of their mentors, followed by interviews with various government officials and agency liaisons. She could have a desk at the Planet before graduating college!

"Yea, mom thought that this would help you get your foot in the door," Robert noted as he took in her expression. His smile showed that he didn't mind being used as a doorstop in this case.

Smiling, she told him, "You're the best, Bobby; but if you ever become Wonder Boy again I expect to be the first on the interview list."

Robert laughed and rolled his eyes.

***WB2/7***

"YOU BURNT MY BUGS," the newest member of Vin's team accused.

Doctor Horace Pollack was a genius, in the creepy, wish he weren't there, kind of way. The man had developed a series of gadgets that allowed him to control insects. It was great because they never had to worry about bedbugs again, but it was also a little annoying because the man's room in the 'Lair' was full of the little pests.

"They were outside your room," Blood argued. The pyro-kinetic had continued his transformation – there were now two glowing red spots in his forehead under the skin that Vincent Harper was beginning to suspect were a second pair of eyes. He'd stopped wearing shoes, too, and balanced on his toes as the balls of his feet transformed into hooves. To top that off, the boss was sending Blood out on solo missions, endangering Vin's place as the leader of the group. "That means that they were fair game."

Sighing, the man went over to his youngest teammate who was flipping through the latest edition of the Daily Planet.

"What you got there, Deacon?" Vin asked as he dropped onto the couch.

"Hum? Oh, I was just reading the Teen Interest section," the black kid commented as he handed over the page. "Seems that Robert Trevor-Barnes is back on his feet, but he's not Wonder Boy any more. It says there he'll be pulling monitor duty with the Teen Titans as 'Delphi'."

Vin snorted, looking at the page but not bothering with reading the article. "Delphi," he laughed, "Sounds like a girls' name."

"I thought you had it out for Trevor," Deac noted.

Shaking his head, Vin corrected, "Fighting against Trevor would be useless – I could crush him as we are now."

Looking back over the couch the teen asked, "Aren't you going to break them up?"

"Actually, I'm hoping one of them will kill the other," Vincent responded, taking a look at the pair.

"Yea, well, I'm going to get out of here," Deacon said, getting up. "This place may be fireproof, but I'm not."

"Take your pistols with you," Vin sighed, getting up. It turned out that Deacon Priest's meta-human ability was to change sound into kinetic force, transforming the sound of a gunshot into an additional projectile. He'd started out with starter pistols, but Vin had gotten a pair of 9mils set up to fire blanks – much cooler looking than little revolvers.

Nodding, the boy grabbed his weapons from the gun cabinet and headed out before the fireworks went off.

"Hey, hey," Vin called out, "Enough of that! Pest, put your bugs back before I call the exterminator; and Blood, if you don't get your flames under control I swear I'm going to take that amulet back."

***WB2/7***

That first week of Senior Year could have gone worse, Bobby figured as he packed his bag for the weekend. With the report in the paper people had accepted that he didn't have powers, but he was sure that some of them didn't accept that. During the last period they'd heard sirens in the distance and everyone had turned to Bobby to see if he was going to get up to check it out. While he'd been curious it was none of his business.

His teachers had been concerned that he'd be called out at a moment's notice to help with one threat or another, but it had never happened.

With his bag packed the young man headed down the stairs and said goodbye to his parent's and baby brother. Danny babbled and waved. Their mom was trying out the 'My Baby Can Read' program, giving her child the best start she could, just like she'd done with him when he'd been little. Before the death of Bobby's dad, Samantha Barnes – then Samantha Trevor – had been an Elementary School Teacher, so she'd made a point of preparing her children for school.

"Do you have a sleeping bag?" his mom asked, "And a mat?"

"Rob told me that they had mattresses delivered yesterday," Bobby explained, "and before you ask, yes, I have sheets."

She smiled apologetically, saying, "I know I'm being a pest. I love you."

"I love you too, mom," he responded automatically. "And I love you too, Danny."

Danny burbled in response, not really understanding, but knowing on some level that he was being talked to in a positive way.

Stepping out into the yard, Bobby found a clear spot and tapped the communicator in his ear. "Delphi to Watch Tower: one for transport to Titan's Tower."

Before he'd lost his powers being teleported had made him feel sick, but that wasn't the case this time. He found himself standing on the island and turned to the tower. On the first floor his display had been joined by another – a suit of archaic armor with a display marking it 'Galahad, the First Teen Hero'. It was fitting since Galahad had been little more than a Squire, a Knight in training, when he'd taken up the challenge of the Green Knight.

Nodding in approval the young man headed up to the cafeteria where an argument was going on between Tempest and Arsenal. Something about 'Fish Tacos'.

"What, it's not like they were dolphins or something that could think for itself," Roy pointed out.

"Just because they aren't the smartest animals in the sea doesn't mean that they don't think!" Garth countered.

Bobby stepped up and asked, "Are you a vegetarian, Garth? Don't the Atlantians eat meat, too?"

"No, I mean, yes, we do eat meat," the sea-dweller answered.

Taking up a taco, the young man commented, "So, what you're saying is that you object to us eating fish because it came from the sea and we didn't? We don't abject when you eat beef." That said he bit into the taco, waiting for the older teen to respond.

Garth rolled his eyes and admitted, "Alright, my problem is that you surface dwellers aren't content to consume the product of the land – you have to take from the sea too. I passed by a trawler on my way here this morning, taking food from the predators of the sea, the meat that we of Atlantis eat."

"That's a fair complaint. Roy, what's your opinion?" he asked, putting the ball back in Arsenal's corner.

"Fish is high in potassium and other essential vitamins and minerals," the teen responded as if reciting an info-commercial, "And they're just so tasty."

There was a moment of silence followed by laughter on both sides of the argument.

Bobby left them and headed to his assigned room, finding a mattress lying against the wall outside the door. He used his keycard to get into the room and then brought in the mattress. The room wasn't large, he'd actually downsized because he wasn't an active member on the team, about eight feet square with a bed, a desk and an office chair being the only furnishings. It did have a south-facing view, meaning that the room would have good sunlight all day.

Checking the desk drawers, the young man found that he could store the bracer Wonder Woman had given him under the largest. With that secured he went up to the Monitor Room to see what was going on.

Pat Dugan had volunteered to be one of the Justice League's liaisons, along with Red Tornado. Mostly he was there to watch after his daughter, Courtney, who was still the most destructive teen hero on the team. He'd been pulling monitor duty when Bobby entered the room.

"Any excitement?" the young man wondered.

"Nothing," the man responded, getting up and pushing the chair over to Bobby. "Hope you brought a sweater – it gets pretty cold in here. Do you want anything from the kitchen?"

"Some soup and a thermos of hot chocolate," he responded, setting up the controls.

***WB2/7***

Blood knew it was a simple assignment, not the kind of thing that required heavy muscle like DeToX could through around, but he didn't mind. The Boss was trying to get people to move out of a neighborhood so that he could turn the land into a new strip mall, but the people living there had rallied a last minute buyout. All that the teen had to do was burn the place to the ground, and that was what Blood did best.

He melted the lock off the basement door and stepped inside, figuring out how best to burn the place down; how best to kill as many people as possible.

"Hey, kid, you shouldn't be down here," the building's superintendant called out.

Moving quickly, Blood closed the distance and managed to wrestle the old man into a submission hold. From there it was just a quick jerk to break the man's neck. Blood watched the life drain from the man's eyes with a gleeful anticipation – he loved watching things die, the slower the better – but then something happened that he wasn't expecting. He felt something leave the man and get pulled into Blood's body.

At that moment he realized that he'd been hungry, but hadn't known it. Whatever he'd just pulled from the old man, it filled Blood in a way he'd never felt before; it fueled the fire that burned inside of him. Feeling as if he'd downed a dozen energy drinks, the teenager blew flames through the basement, setting alight things that normally didn't burn. Heading up the stairs he set the staircase alight behind him, and then set the stairs to the upper levels on fire, too. The elevator was next, and then the rest of the lobby. Heading outside, the young man used his fires to melt the fire escapes.

With no escape Blood headed across the street to watch the place burn to the ground.

***WB2/7***

"Very funny," Bobby remarked as he pulled on the blue hooded sweater that had been brought by Jesse Quick when he'd asked for an extra layer to wear. He'd known that a few enterprising companies had capitalized on the 'Wonder Boy' logo – a white star on blue. It looked almost identical to the sweater he'd worn during his first outing as a hero; the only difference being that the star wasn't faded.

He pulled it on just in time for the Oracle System to flag an alert, "Building fire in New York – I'm alerting the Justice League that we'll be taking this one."

"Finally, some fun," Jesse exclaimed as she dashed out of the room.

Rolling his eyes Bobby activated the action alarm that would send the five teen heroes to the Javelin pad outside. While they scrambled into their uniforms and headed out the young man started pulling together facts – the Oracle System tapped into news feeds, traffic cameras and satellites. Pulling up building blueprints he transmitted the data to the Javelin.

The Justice League had stripped the weapons and hyperdrive from the aero-space craft that they'd assigned to the Titans, but they'd also equipped it with different subsystems. One of them were a dozen of Mr. Terrific's T-Spheres that had been colored blue with white stars. The spheres could float on their own, project holographic images, and transmit images back to Bobby at Titan's Tower. He used one of them to display the floor plan for the 10 story brownstone apartment complex

"According to early reports the fire started in the basement and spread upward," Bobby informed the team, "But there's still something odd about the way the fire has spread. Tempest, you're on fire control, Stargirl and Jesse are on rescue detail, Arsenal is the Field Leader on this one, so you need to coordinate with the local rescue services. S.T.R.I.P.E., stay with the Javelin – this is a Titan mission, so you're on standby."

"Got it," the only adult in the group responded.

"What about me?" Tim asked.

"Recon," the young man responded. "Like I said, there is something wrong with the way this fire has spread – I want you to look for anyone who stands out in the crowd."

"Think the criminal will return to the scene of the crime?" Jesse scoffed.

Roy responded with, "Actually, arsonists are the most likely to return to the crime scene, especially while the fire is still burning. Good call, Delphi." Unbuckling his restraints the archer activated the ramp, saying, "Hero time, Titans."

***WB2/7***

He could tell when someone inside the building died, could feel that unexplainable something left the bodies of his victims and rush into his. After the third he came to the conclusion that he was sucking the souls from the dead, and as he looked back over the past weeks he realized that he'd done it before. Those other times it had been with dogs and birds and Pest's bugs. It made him giddy to think of how many souls he was going to absorb from the building fire.

Then the heroes had shown up. Four heroes, all young people ranging from 16 to 20; two were girls and two were boys. One of the heroes, the oldest, wearing a red costume that left his arms mostly bare, with a bow looped over one shoulder and a quiver across his back, went up to the fire chief who was supervising the rescue. Another male, wearing blue, reached out towards the fire hoses and somehow controlled the spray – Blood really didn't like that one. The girls, both blondes, did most of the work.

One blonde, wearing blue knee-length bicycle shorts and a long-sleeved top, created a ramp up to the highest floors, the ones that hadn't caught fire. The other, wearing a red exoskeleton over a gold costume raced up and down the ramp bringing down survivors. When someone appeared in a window the first girl created another ramp so that the person could slide to safety. It was infuriating.

Over by the red-costumed hero, a collection of blue balls with white stars hovered between him and the Fire Chief, projecting a 3D image in the air. Red sections at the top of the projected model turned blue as they were declared clear. Moving at super-speed the gold and red clad girl was removing Blood's food from danger. It was infuriating, but the young man knew better than to strike out – not four against one.

Windows on one of the floors shattered, and a mattress floated out. It landed, and paramedics ran over to tend to another couple of rescued victims. From under the mattress another dozen of the star-marked balls rolled out and headed back in.

Feeling as though he were being watched, Blood looked around and spotted a figure on the rooftop above him. Knowing he couldn't blow flames without drawing attention to himself, the young man leapt for the fire escape, feeling the need to confront this person. Climbing to the roof, Blood found himself facing a teen hero he recognized from boogieman stories coming out of Gotham City.

"Hello, little hero," he sneered. "I'm going to burn your body and eat your soul."

"Yea, no," Robin, the Boy Wonder, announced as he pulled a stick from a special pocket on his thigh; with the press of a button the stick became a staff. Robin moved in, twirling the staff, then planted one end and used it to vault into the air.

Blood threw up his arms as the Gotham Knight's apprentice brought the staff around. He barely felt the strike and countered by grabbing the staff and used it to throw the teen across the rooftop. Robin dropped and rolled, and Blood leapt after him. He was going to rip the boy's soul out and use it to fuel the fires that were burning inside of him.

THWACK!

Something smacked the side of Blood's head, and was followed by two more. They knocked him away from his intended victim, and the villain fell to the roof heavily. He turned to see a trio of the white-starred blue balls coming around for another pass. Blood blew flames at them, and caught one directly while the other two peeled away. The one he'd torched dropped to the ground with whatever was inside of it melted and smoking.

The two remaining balls floated over to Robin, and one emitted a voice, "What happened to recon?"

"He came after me," Robin shrugged.

"Okay, so what can he do, other than breath fire at 3000 degrees?" the disembodied voice inquired.

"Strength, speed, toughness – not quite what your levels were, but more than human," the teen responded. "So, what's the game plan now?"

As the balls spread out the voice answered, "We keep him busy until the others can get here, then we take this nut into custody so he can answer for the deaths and property damage."

While Blood was tracking the balls Robin used the opening to close the distance, and Blood found himself in a desperate situation. When he focused on the acrobatic menace one of the star-marked balls would bean him upside the head or smack him in the kidney or in the back of the knee, tripping him up. And when he focused on the balls the Boy Wonder would smack him around. Just when he'd figured out how to counter both the hero in the red costume appeared and shot an arrow at Blood.

Blowing fire at the arrow caused the head to expand into a foam wall that fell on top of Blood. The other three arrived shortly – the two blondes and the hated water-wielder – and Blood knew that he didn't have a chance. Still, he wasn't going out without a bang!

Focusing on the fire inside of him the villain willed all the energy to explode at once, but the power wouldn't do what he wanted. Instead of exploding outward the power compressed, imploding.

***WB2/7***

The Titans through up their hands against the sudden heat that the pyro-kinetic emitted, and when they looked again the arsonist was gone.

***WB2/7***

Blood fell into what looked to be a dry fountain in the back yard of a church. Men and women were kneeling on the ground, praying, while five in robes stood next to slabs of stone that radiated out from the fountain like the points of a star. There were people strapped to those stone slabs, and they didn't look like they wanted to be there.

From under their robes the five standing by drew daggers, and for a moment Blood braced himself to fight back. Then as one they slit the throats of the men strapped to the alter stones. Blood pumped straight from the hearts of the sacrifices into channels etched into the rock, draining the blood into the fountain where he stood. As the men died he felt the fire at his center drawing the souls of the dying into his body, feeding the flames that were the source of his powers.

"Welcome," one of the dagger-wielders called out, "I am Mother Mayhem, leader of this congregation." She pulled back the hood of her robe to reveal the face of a woman in her early thirties. A sash tied over her waist showed that she had a great figure for someone her age. She went on, "We are the followers of Trigon, whose symbol you wear. By what name do wish us to address you?"

"My name is Blood," he answered, ready to rip and tear the congregation apart.

The woman turned to address the crowd: "ALL HAIL, BROTHER BLOOD!"

"ALL HAIL BROTHER BLOOD!" the gathering responded, prostrating themselves. "ALL HAIL BROTHER BLOOD!" they repeated.

Blood smiled, deciding that he wasn't going to kill these people just yet.

***WB2/7***

Raven saw the scene in her mind's eye and felt a gut wrenching sense of dread. It had been bad enough when the fool wearing the doorway to her father's universe had been merely channeling Trigon's power. Now he was feeding souls into the amulet, forcing the door further open and giving him access to more powers. And then he'd come to the attention of the Church of Blood, who knew how to open the doorway even wider.

The girl had been floating in air as she meditated, so she had to merely straighten up and let her weight be taken by her legs. She was wearing a black dress that fell to her ankles, and reaching out with one hand she used her powers to draw boots and a hooded cloak from her dresser.

"Daughter," Arella called out as she entered the room. "Where are you going?"

"To warn them, mother. I cannot wait any longer," Raven explained. "If I wait then, through inaction, I will cause the deaths of unknown thousands, which goes against the teachings of Azarath."

Her mother looked away, trying to hide some emotion from her daughter lest she cause an emotional response in the girl. "If you go," Arella warned, "The gates to Azarath will be closed behind you – there will be no return."

That proclamation caught the teen's attention, freezing her as she pinned the cloak in place. Closing her eyes, Raven reaffirmed her decision and finished making herself ready to go. "I'm sorry, mother, but this is something that I must do. If I cannot go with your blessing, then I will go without it."

Using her inherent magic, Raven opened a portal between dimensions, and with one last look to the only parent she'd known the teen ducked into the black opening. Behind her, Raven thought she'd heard her mother saying, "Be safe, my daughter; I love you," but it must have been her imagination.

There were many gates between Azarath and Earth – it would take time to get there.

***WB2/7***

In the recesses of the New York Museum of History, Cassandra Sandsmark rooted through the objects recovered from a recent archeological dig in Troy. Next to her there were a pair of worn sandals with little wings on them and a belt with the symbols of the early Olympic Games worked into the leather. Finally she found what she was looking for – a pair of gloves, well worn, but they were identical to the gloves that her friend, Donna Troy, had used to become Wonder Girl for a brief period of time.

Taking the objects she headed over to a standing mirror and put them on, focusing. The belt, the Belt of Hercules, had the power to form any clothing she chose. The Gloves of Atlas would give her immense strength. While the Sandals of Hermes would give her the power of flight!

When she opened her eyes the belt had transformed into a one-piece, long-sleeved swimsuit with an oval cutout over her breasts. A red cape hung from a golden rope that looped over one shoulder and under the other and there was a belt around her narrow waist. The sandals had become boots, but they still provided the power of flight, while the gloves had turned blue and shrunk to fit her hands.

Putting her fists on her hips, Cassie turned to examine the effect, murmuring, "Look out world – here comes: Power Girl!"

End Chapter Seven: Titan


	8. Active

This story is a work of fiction – any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental, unless of course I used your appearance or life-story as inspiration. In which case, THANK YOU! Most of the characters herein are the intellectual property of DC Comics and used without their permission, and without the intent of making money.

Wonder Boy – Part Two: Powerless

Chapter Eight: Active

Back at base the Titans were celebrating the success of their first mission as a team sitting in the TV room. On the bank of 16 massive monitors news programs were playing, showing the fire from a dozen different angles. The teens were celebrating with root beer and chex mix while Pat was back on Monitor Duty.

Most national programs only glanced over their activities – they were too used to reporting on teenage heroes as a menace – while the local programs had reporters on street corners saying stuff like, "The Titans showed both coordination and humility as they came to the aid of the firemen and paramedics whose job it was to rescue the residents of this apartment complex."

Another program came on: "We saw an amazing display from the Teen Titans today," one reporter was saying to the woman on the street corner. "What would you say their coordination is a result of?"

"Well, I'm not an expert, but as you can see from this clip the Titans, led in the field by Green Arrow's former side kick . . .," the woman was saying.

"Partner," Arsenal interjected.

She went on, ". . . coordinating with Chief Milton from the Fire Department. I'd have to say that their coordination came from taking the advice of the professional rescuers."

"Susan, what's that between them?" the anchorman inquired.

After a moment's pause the woman responded, "From what I've learned the objects projecting the image are called 'Wonder Balls', and they are controlled by Delphi back at the Titan's tower headquarters. What you see projected there is a 3D wire-frame of the apartment with the rooms turning green as they are cleared."

"So, what your saying is that the former Wonder Boy was one of the reasons for the success of the evacuation," the anchorman announced.

"I can't argue with that assessment, David," the woman answered.

"Typical," Jessica Chambers snorted as she watched the program. "We do all the work and 'Wonder Boy' get's all the credit." At normal speed she started walking away, and Robert Trevor caught up with her.

"Jess, wait," the redubbed Delphi called after her. "Look, I'm sorry that some people think I'm more involved, but what is your problem with me?"

Turning on him she growled, "My problem? My problem is that even powerless you are the example that everyone holds the rest of us to. I'm constantly in Flash's shadow, and now I'm in yours, too. Do you know what that's like?"

After a long moment he answered, "No, I don't know what that's like. I never tried to live up to Wonder Woman's legacy; I just tried to be myself."

"Ugh! That's what I'm talking about. You're just so . . . just so . . ." In frustration she broke down and did something she'd been thinking about doing for weeks. Reaching up she grabbed the boy by the ears and dragged him into a kiss.

Robert froze, his jaw open slightly in some response she'd stopped, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth. After a couple seconds she realized that he was just standing there, frozen.

Stepping back, she asked, "You're not going to kiss me, are you?"

"I, uh, um," he responded, shocked.

"Well, I guess I deserve that," she murmured, "As bad as I've been treating you. You don't like me, so you don't kiss back; most guys would have taken advantage, but not you.

"Geeze, Jess, it's not that I don't like you, but I'm not in love with you either," he answered, giving her his reasoning for not making out with her. It only made her feel worse – he didn't kiss girls he wasn't in love with, and she went around kissing guys she had crushes on.

Sighing, she allowed, "Yea, okay, I get it. 3x2(9YZ)4A." Saying the mathematical equation that allowed her to tap into the Speed Force she raced off down the halls to hide from her shame.

***WB2/8***

After his run in with Jessica, Bobby headed to the gym where he tried to work through his confusion through physical exercise. He was joined shortly by Tim, and the two of them put on pads for sparring practice. Tim's style was a combination of martial arts as taught by Batman and a collection of trusted master martial artists. Just when Bobby had figured out the rhythm of the attacks Tim would change it up.

"So," Bobby remarked while blocking a ferocious series of attacks, "Jessica kissed me."

Tim's concentration broke, and Bobby stepped in with the Amazonian form.

"Wow, that's, uh; so are you guys going to go out?" Tim countered, trying to get the momentum of the match back.

Bobby lost his footing and found himself on the defensive again. "No, uh, actually I was so shocked that I didn't kiss her back," he admitted.

Tim rolled his eyes, but that didn't stop the Boy Wonder from keeping the offensive. "Well, I guess I'm not really surprised, but you have to admit that she is cute – blonde hair, blue eyes, killer bod; you could do worse."

"I could," Bobby countered, finding an opening and pressing it, "But she looks a little too much like Stephanie."

The other boy cringed – Stephanie Brown, a mutual friend, was Tim's girlfriend now.

Bruised, they ended the fight at a draw, heading to the shower to clean up before rejoining the rest of the team around the massive bank of screens. Jessica sat on the far side of the room from Bobby, and he was personally grateful as he hadn't figured out what to feel about the incident in the hall.

***WB 2/8***

The sprawling bomb shelter situated under the streets of New York was home to five individuals of questionable morality going by the names DeToX, Fame, Blood, Pest, and Crackshot. All record of the shelter had been expunged from public record, and most of the entrances were sealed, making it an ideal place for a few notorious enforcers of the Mannheim Crime Syndicate to hide out when they weren't needed to keep the debtors paying. DeToX, the defacto leader of the group, entered the large central room in a foul mood to find his team arguing, as usual. Once known as Vincent Harper, the Golden Boy of West Brook, he'd graduated from scoring TDs as the Quarterback and Captain of the High School Football team to being a superpowered thug taking orders from the boss's son, who seemed more deranged each time they met.

It hadn't always seemed to be that way – at first he'd been allowed to work on his own schedule with his own methods, but Bruno "Ugly" Mannheim was starting to demand certain results with specific body counts. Vincent was seriously considering moving on. His mood wasn't improved when he saw that Blood was back – the pyrokinetic had been difficult to control before he'd started mutating into a demonic form. Four eyes, cloven hooves, his stringy black hair falling out and what looked to be deer horns growing out his forehead, he'd grown since disappearing a month ago. At least he didn't look starved any more.

"Knock it off," he shouted over the noise, crossing his arms as he considered the group.

Fame was the newest member on the team, and the only girl, recruited when it seemed that Blood wasn't coming back. She had a nice body, which she was showing off in a harem costume, but her face was pock marked with pimple scars and active pimples, which was why she wore a silk scarf over her face. Teased horribly in school the first use of her metahuman power was against a cheerleader whose verbal abuse went a shade too far – the pompom shaker had gone from 17 to 71 in about three seconds, dropping dead of old age. One of DeToX's recruiters had found the girl a few days later and brought her in. Since then she'd seemed to take his encouragement for interest, not that he was complaining; with the lights off she could be just about anyone. With the lights off she could be Mary Bromfield, the girl who should have been the Prom Queen to his Prom King, if that Trevor turd hadn't gotten in the way.

"We've got an assignment," Vincent told them. "Ugly wants us to steal some relics from a museum exhibit in East Brook." He tossed a packet to Pest, saying, "That contains the details of what he wants took and where they are likely to be – I want you to take Crackshot and Fame."

"Hum," the scientist who'd discovered a way to control insects and rodents murmured in approval, "The Silver Scarab, a mythical insect; the Egyptian's had style! What's it doing in a Greek/Roman exhibit. How odd."

"Bruno . . .," Blood started.

"Bruno talks to me, Blood," DeToX responded, "And you've been absent for almost five weeks. You've lost the right to say where you go and when – besides, we got another mission. There's a stoolpigeon in federal custody Boss Mannheim wants silenced, but before we kill him I want to hear what he has to say. So you and me are going to pay him a visit and while I ask him questions you can burn off his fingers and toes. Fame, Crackshot: get with Pest and figure out how you're going to steal that stuff – I recommend you two cause a distraction while he does the heist. Neither of you is well known yet, so it's time to introduce yourselves, but if the Justice League get involved do us all a favor and run."

***WB 2/8***

The hallways of Eugene Gottfried Memorial High School had received a fresh coat of paint over the summer even though it had only been a year since the school had opened. Built with funds left to the city by Dr. Eugene Gottfried, an eccentric inventor whose greatest works fell under the category of 'Fringe Science', the building was designed to take advantage of current technologies like WiFi and student tracking. You needed your student ID to access your locker or buy meals in the cafeteria, and your student ID had a tracking chip in it; making it a double edged sword for those who liked to skip school, but also liked to buy stuff from the vending machines.

It was a Friday morning, a Friday morning before a 3-day weekend, so the desire to skip was thick in the air as the students moved towards their first period classes. For Robert Trevor-Barnes his first class was actually a free period that he spent working on the layout of the school paper. The school newspaper had become a big deal over the past year with some of the reports being reprinted in the teen interest section of the town paper. As such there had been some changes to the way that the school newsletter was being done.

"Delphi," one of his peers called out, which Bobby ignored. It didn't help though as an excitable 15 year-old ran up, skidding to a stop and nearly tripping up a couple cheerleaders in his haste. "Hey, Delphi, Chief said he wanted us in his office right away."

"Code names are for emergencies, David," Bobby responded, picking up his pace slightly.

The year before there had been a student editor running the paper, but one of the changes had been to place a Faculty Advisor in the position. Edward Thompson looked like a pig stuffed into a suit most days – short, broad shoulders, big gut; he'd been a political correspondent until some of his more scathing comments fell on the wrong ears and he'd been 'retired to the backwoods of New York to spend his days correcting sentence structure and wiping kids noses'. He made no allusions to the fact that he hated his job, but his anger had abated somewhat after Bobby started calling the man 'Chief' instead of 'Mr. Thompson'.

Stepping into the room set aside for the Journalism Club the two teenagers headed directly for the cubicle that was marked 'Ed Thompson, Editor and Chief'. "You wanted to see us, Chief?" Bobby asked as he poked his head in.

"Barnes, Hew, get in here," the man barked. When the two teens were inside the cramped office the man said, "There's an exhibit of Greek-o-Roman stuff in East Brook this week, and the paper wants a teen to do the report on it. Problem is that you two are the only ones this pathetic excuse for an academic institution will let me send. Hew, you focus on the damn artifacts and not the lady giving the tour; Barnes, something other than your usual crap. Questions?"

"How are we supposed to get there, Chief," Bobby said, ignoring the slight on his photography skills. His second coffee table book, this one of Paradise Island and the lands around the Aegean Sea, had hit the best seller list, reaching 3rd place and dropping only 2 points over three weeks. At the moment his college fund was looking as plump as his editor. "I don't have a car and David can't drive."

Pulling his keys out of the desk the man tossed them to the 17 year-old saying, "One scratch, Barnes, and I'll have you in detention for the rest of the year."

Bobby looked at the BMW fob and tossed the keys back. "Why don't you call Mr. Craig in the Auto Shop and ask him if he has something street legal I can borrow?" he countered.

"Not as stupid as you look in press photos, eh," the man responded, smiling wickedly. "Get out of here, I'll call Mr. Craig."

The car they borrowed was street legal, in the sense that it had turn signals and brake lights, but the Auto Shop teacher warned them that they wouldn't want to be driving after dark as the headlights were only ornamental, and not to go over 55 miles per hour or below 10 mph. It chugged itself to life and then roared, the entire frame shaking, and belched black smoke as they pulled out of the parking lot to Main Street and then out to the freeway. Once it was on the open road the shaking stopped, the engine settled into the approximation of a healthy rhythm, and the two teens relaxed enough to play with the radio – which slipped from its brackets and hung limply by wires from the dashboard.

A long stretch of open road connected West Brook to the larger city of East Brook, taking nearly 2 hours to cross at a pace they felt comfortable with. Taking the exit they noticed that flags had been hung from every lap post on one side of the street announcing an art show at the old courthouse on one side of the street and flags announcing the exhibit at the old courthouse on the other side of the street. About a mile into town Bobby spotted two men in workmen's overalls arguing over who's flags were supposed to be hung at street corners. Finally they reached the old courthouse and cued up with a group of other reporters who were waiting for their guide, but after nearly an hour a couple reporter/photographer pairs left complaining about the wait.

Bobby, not wanting the trip to be for nothing, nodded to David and left the guided tour to explore with the younger teen tagging along behind. Having lived on an island where ancient Greece was more than just crumbling ruins he could identify most everything readily enough, and what he didn't recognize he read the plaque in front of each display, relating the objects use to what he had personal experience with. Daniel took notes at lightning speed, using a form of shorthand that looked like a series of squiggly marks.

Nearing the end of the exhibit though they heard raised voices – a woman and a girl arguing.

"Danny, I need you to finish up without me," the older teen said, recognizing the voices. "Wait for me outside."

"Okay," he responded, sounding curious but continuing on while Bobby slipped between two displays.

Behind the exhibit a woman in her mid thirties was involved in a heated discussion with her teenage daughter: something about being suspended from school. The woman was Helena Sandsmark, a socio-archeologist who had been invited to Themyscira over the summer to study the Amazons; the girl was Cassandra Sandsmark, Helena's daughter, and had accompanied her mother to the island. Bobby had been recuperating from containing three very powerful elemental spirits at the time, one of two men alive who could live on the island due to a heritage that led back to the Amazon's first Queen, Antiope. He knew that Cassandra, Cassie, attended the Elias School for Girls, a boarding about 100 miles north.

"What's next, Cassandra," Helena was demanding, "Are you going to run away to get attention."

"This isn't about attention, mom," Cassandra shouted back. "If you'd actually listen to me you'd know that!"

At that point he moved into both women's peripheral vision and they turned to look at him, Helena with a scathing comment on her lips that was lost in her daughter's cry of, "BOBBY!" The girl ran over and threw her arms around his neck for a hug before backing up slightly to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I was part of the tour," he started, pausing as Helena moaned, "The tour, I forgot all about it", finishing with, "I heard your voices so I thought I'd check it out. What's going on?"

"Cassandra has gotten herself put on suspension from school for sneaking out at night, sleeping during class and fighting in the halls," the mother explained, glaring at her daughter.

Looking expectantly at the blonde girl Bobby asked, "Cassie, where you sneaking out, sleeping in class and fighting in the halls?"

"Well, there was only one fight," she tried to argue.

"But you have been sneaking out and sleeping in class," he caught her. "So, what were you doing at night that you were sleeping in class."

"It wasn't . . . I wasn't . . . it's not like that . . .," she stammered, seeming to assume that Bobby was assuming that she was sneaking out to see a boy.

Cassie was a pretty young woman – 5 foot 8, blonde hair, blue eyes, a light tan and a body that was firm from regular exercise while also taking on the curves of womanhood. Just a year his junior Bobby knew that most guys would be working towards a semi-serious relationship, and he also knew that Cassie would return whatever attentions he gave her in kind. She'd been there when his previous girlfriend, Mary Bromfield, had dumped him (Bobby) for her brother's best friend; they'd spent all summer hanging out around Themyscira, taking day-trips to exotic places around the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas; they'd come seriously close to kissing a couple of times. It wasn't fair, he knew, but he only thought of her as a friend.

Just as the young woman was about to answer a boy's voice called out, "Delphi, Delphi, DELPHI!" A moment later David squeezed between two exhibits, gasping for breath.

"David, I told you, codenames are for emergencies," Bobby sighed.

"This is an emergency," the younger teen panted. "I was waiting outside, like you told me, and I saw these two tearing up the street. One's dressed like a harem-girl and the other like a gang thug. The police have been called, but . . . I just thought there was something you could do."

Pulling his bag from his back Bobby said, "I need authorization to get involved, but there's nothing against checking things out while waiting for authorization. Helena, take Cassie and David to the security office and stay there."

"You're not going out there!" the adult admonished.

Pulling a pair of tubes holding what appeared to be tennis balls he told the woman, "Not unless I have to," while popping the tops and spilling the contents onto the floor. Instead of hitting the floor though the balls hovered for a moment before rising to shoulder level, changing in appearance from tennis balls to mostly blue orbs with a single white star painted on each. Also from the bag he pulled a pair of multi-optics goggles and a control glove.

Using both analog and visual controls he sent the collection of spheres between the displays and out the front doors, circling the building until he found the commotion. Just as David had said there were two of them – one a girl with blonde hair sticking out from the silk scarf she was using as a mask, the rest of her outfit was the kind of harem thing you don't see outside Halloween; the other was a black kid wearing a skull-mask under his hooded sweater, wielding a pair of 9mm pistols. Both seemed to be doing nothing more than causing wanton destruction, but the local PD didn't seem to know how to handle them.

A police cruiser turned a corner and the harem girl whipped a hand at them, and the cop car seemed to split into two along a diagonal line where the girl had slashed and the momentum would have carried the invisible force. When the officers got out the boy shot the weapons from their hands and sent the public servants sprinting for cover. The girl appeared to be a metahuman, but unless the second kid's power was perfect hand-eye coordination there didn't seem to be anything special about him that couldn't be trained. Still, this was an empowered-human on normal-human crime involving teenagers, which meant that it was Titan business.

"Calling all teen heroes," he said, using the code phrase that bypassed normal comm. channels and contacted the Titans directly. Rather than get responses he heard automatic responses.

"Robin, offline."

"Arsenal, offline."

"Tempest, offline."

"Stargirl, occupied."

"Jesse Quick, offline."

"Hawk, occupied."

"Dove, occupied."

Meaning they were either in school, under cover, or fighting for their lives. Whatever the case there would not be a rallying of teen heroes to back him up this time. "Forward request to the Watch Tower," he ordered.

"Watchtower," a depressingly familiar voice responded, "Booster Gold on the line."

"Booster, I've got two wanna-be super-villains tearing up downtown East Brook. Any chance of back up?" Bobby asked, sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Oh, well, um, it's just that there are several alpha- and beta- level threats going on around the world, so . . . I'm the only one at the Watchtower, and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to leave," the 'adult' hero responded.

"Right, so I'm on my own," the young man muttered. "I'll try to slow down the criminals until backup arrives. Thanks Booster."

"No problem," Booster Gold responded cheerfully.

As the comm. cut out though Bobby couldn't help but wonder if the people of the 23rd century had noticed when Booster had traveled back in time, and if they had did they throw a party? It was mean, he knew, but the man made The Question look reliable.

Picking one of the modified T-spheres he sent it into the fray, towards the girl, who seemed to be the most destructive of the pair. "I don't suppose I could ask you to stop?" he wondered, projecting his voice through the sphere while wending his way out of the civic center. For a response she slashed at the orb, causing Bobby to lose control of it.

***WB 2/8***

Delilah Volk recognized the blue sphere with the white star on it as a 'wonder ball', a simplified version of Mr. Terrific's 'T-Spheres'. When the blue spheres had first been seen, and that former Wonder Boy, Bobby Trevor, was on the other side of them, there had been many jokes that went around. The boy's started it, saying, "Dude, that guy's got a serious case of blue balls." Not to be outdone, the girls started saying stuff like, "If that's the size of his balls what's the rest of him look like?"

It was juvenile, but that was high school. After hearing the ultimatum she whipped out one hand, letting her power trail from her fingers. The tendril, about the thickness of yarn, passed through the high-tech device, aging the components it passed through, causing the Wonder Ball to fall to the ground and break into two pieces. Spotting one of the police officers trying to take a bead on her she formed the tendril into a thin wall between her and the police, the bullets turning to dust as they passed through her shield. Her partner, 'Crackshot', shot the weapons out of the policeman's hand before reloading while the cop took cover.

"We need to move out of the open," Crackshot called out. "They'll be brining in sniper next, and I can't protect you from bullets traveling that fast."

"Pest will be done soon," Fame, as she was known with this crowd, retorted. "We just need to keep the police's attention for a few more minutes."

Deacon King was a crybaby, Delilah thought as she formed a whip and lashed out at a few policemen who'd thought a shield would protect them. Her tendril of chronometric distortion, as Pest put it, cut through the shield and cut down the man holding it – aging some of his internal organs years. The amount of time the field aged things was dependant on the thickness of the tendril and how much focus she gave it. With practice she could age people 100 years, or turn a barrel of grape juice into vintage wine, but at the moment the best she could do was vinegar.

Someone came running out of the building Pest had gone into, and at first she thought her words had been prophetic, but the person running towards them wasn't a man in grubby clothing wearing an absurd helmet. He was young, athletic, taller than average, and wearing a gauntlet on his left arm and multi-optic specs over his eyes. Five of the white-star-on-blue Wonder Balls converged on him, two connecting to the gauntlet while the other three circled behind him.

The three started shooting laser bolts, and Delilah put up a field instinctively. Light wasn't like solid matter though, and she had to thicken the field to turn the laser beams into bursts of light – she'd have one hell of a sunburn, but it was better than being dropped by the bursts. Holding up the bracer the incoming hero blocked the telekinetic bursts that Crackshot was started sending his way, the two spheres creating a force-field between the gunman and hero.

She had no doubt that this was the former Wonder Boy, the one going by the name Delphi, but everything she'd read said that he was a 'hands-off' hero that worked behind the scenes – usually behind a computer terminal. Seeing him leaping into combat seemed out of character to her as she divided her attention and lashed out at the closest wonder ball, causing it to short out. By this time Delphi and Crackshot were going hand to hand, but whatever training her partner had received on the streets was nothing compared to the former Wonder Boy.

Lashing out at the other two wonder balls Fame ran towards her partner, focusing her mind like never before. DeToX didn't like Robert Trevor, hated him in fact, so if she were to kill Delphi then Vincent might love her even more! Vincent had been the only person who'd ever been nice to her, and he was tall, and handsome, and the kind of guy who normally didn't notice girls like her. She would do anything for him, even kill!

Forming her power into a thick beam, like a club of time-distorting energy, she brought it down with all her force. Delphi seemed to sense her, and futilely threw up his right arm to protect himself; only, something on his arm stopped her club cold. The sleeve of his shirt wasted away, revealing silver wire twisted artistically around his right forearm, centered with a blue star that was glowing almost white as it repelled her power! Whatever it was she hated it.

***WB 2/8***

Bobby had felt the Diadem of Antiope slide down his arm, but hadn't understood why until he'd seen the chick in the harem outfit coming. He'd thrown up his right arm, still needing his left to defend himself from the gunslinger, and was only half surprised when the magical artifact – the proof that he was descended from the Amazon's first queen – resisted the girl's power. Though he still didn't know what the girl's power was, it was good to know he had a defense.

She stared daggers at him, and then she was knocked away by a new arrival. At first he thought it was Stargirl or Jesse Quick, but when he turned to look it was neither. The newcomer was wearing a long-sleeved white one-piece with an open oval over her breasts, blue boots and gloves, and a red cape on a gold rope that looped over one shoulder and under the other. Her blonde hair glinted in the sunlight while her blue eyes burned with both excitement and a little anger.

"Give up, felons," the teenage girl called out, "Because now you face the power of, er, Power Girl!"

Oh, gods, Bobby thought, not a neophyte!

Harem girl spat curses and swung her power around, causing a distortion like a baseball bat. Power Girl threw up her arms to block the blow, but whatever her defenses were it wasn't enough. Screaming, the new girl was knocked backwards, skipping across the road and into a parked car.

Breaking off combat Bobby ran towards the girl, grabbed her arm and leapt over the car, his car, he realized, the one he'd borrowed that morning, dragging her behind him.

His comm. crackled and the voice of Pat Dugan, Stargirl's step-dad and partner, came over the line. "Bobby, I'm tracking your situation via the wonder balls and I'm sending you a care package."

"Thanks STRIPE," Bobby responded, using Pat's codename.

"You're going to want to get clear," Pat warned, "It isn't subtle."

"Right," the young man said, pulling his would-be rescuer into a fireman's carry and running for a nearby fountain. He dumped her into it and climbed in, using his body to shield hers. There was a roar, and the sound of metal against metal and an exploding gas tank. Looking up he saw that a suit of powered armor had landed on top of his car, crushing it to the pavement and destroying it utterly. Wondering what Mr. Craig was going to say, but also glad he hadn't borrowed Mr. Thompson's BMW, Bobby sprinted for the suit, which opened up upon his approach, and climbed inside while the bad guys were still trying to get their bearings.

"STRIPE Emergency Evacuation Armor online," a female voice said in his ear. "Primary function over ridden, weapons online, unknown power source detected."

The armor sealed, and Bobby felt the diadem, which was still wrapped around his right wrist peel away. "Bobby," Pat's voice came over the line, "the armor is detecting something integrating with the right arm. What's going on?"

"Antiope's crown is doing something funny," he responded, turning to face the pair of teen terrors. He directed the sensors to the right arm – the multi-optics picking up a spectral energy field being projected by the armor's force field emitters; a frequency that was outside the device's usual output.

"Armor, really," harem-girl laughed, lunging forward with her club of energy.

Reaching out with the right hand Bobby caught the energy, which was repelled by the field and contained by the hand – holding the surprised girl in place long enough to punch her with the left hand. A force field covered the left hand, reducing the impact but still delivering a heck of a punch that sent harem-girl back in a daze. Her partner started firing madly, trying to divert the hero's attention. Apparently the kid didn't understand which side he was on – heroes did not attack defenseless villains, though more often than not villains would attack defenseless heroes. The armor tracked one of the shells the pistols were spitting out, marking them as blanks, but the armor was also tracking the impacts against it as if they were actual bullets.

Behind them 'Power Girl' seemed to have woken up and was trying to rejoin the battle. "I'll take care of the chick," she called out.

"No," Bobby told her, "Focus on the guy here – I think his power is transmuting sound. Get close and clap really hard."

The camera in the back picked up Power Girl's look of confusion, but she did as she was told and flew close, clapping as hard as she could. "No," the kid called out when he realized what was going on, but it was too late. Maybe he didn't have full control, or maybe he was afraid of his power; whatever the case the sound of the super-powered clap was converted into concussive force that knocked both backwards. Power Girl righted herself quickly, but the metahuman gunman was sent backwards into harem-girl, who'd just been getting to her feet. Both would-be villains hit the ground again, tangled up in each other's costumes. As they tried to get free the girl's mask slipped, revealing a face that seemed to have more pimples than pores.

"Damn, girlfriend," Power Girl scoffed, "are you, like, allergic to cleansing pads?"

Harem-girl sneered and was about to throw a retort when the manhole cover next to her started rattling and then rose off the ground to emit a cascade of bugs. Insects of all sorts poured out of the hole into a column that fell apart to reveal a man in grubby clothes and a ludicrous helmet. "You heroes," the new guy sneered, "always so certain of your victory."

Bees and hornets swarmed, and Bobby pulled Power Girl close before throwing up a force field that worked like a bug zapper against the stinging insects. They continued to swarm for nearly a minute before the survivors relented and went back to their hives. All the other bugs were heading back to their hiding places while the villains had vanished.

"They got away!" Power Girl cursed angrily.

"Sometimes they do," Bobby said before boosting the output on his speaker. "It's okay, you can come out!"

Police officers came out, picking up the shattered metal that had once been working weapons, and civilians came out, looking at the bug guts that covered their once pristine roads. Bobby opened the hatch on the special tactics robotic integrated power enhancer (STRIPE) armor and climbed out, the Diadem of Antiope wrapping itself around his wrist again. Tapping his comm. link he said, "Thanks for the save, STRIPE."

"Too bad it wasn't enough," Pat's voice boomed from the armor as it closed up.

Bobby nodded before walking up to the closest policeman. "Was anyone hurt?" he asked, pulling off the goggles and slipping the diadem into place on his forehead. The crown had entered into the public awareness and most assumed, correctly, that it identified him as a member of the Amazonian royal family. However, there had been a lot of talk about his position in that family being Diana's fiancé, which the tabloids were still running with even though all the major news agencies had written retractors off of Wonder Woman's explanation of his status. Still, it helped identify him to the average citizen.

"A couple of people in the initial assault," the officer in charge answered as one person was taken away on a gurney, one arm withered to old age while the rest of him looked 18 or 19. "There were two fatalities – people who got hit by that witch in the harem outfit who just keeled over."

The young man shook his head at the waste and offered, "I think her power is temporal or chronometric in nature – it ages whatever it touches decades, perhaps even centuries."

"How did you block her attack," an intrepid reporter asked.

With two fingers he tapped the diadem, explaining, "Magical artifacts resist the flow of time, sometimes becoming stronger as the ages pass. One of the powers of the Diadem of Antiope is that it can reshape itself to my wishes, or according to whatever rules govern it, so at that moment it was wrapped around my wrist, meaning I could block with it just like I could with my spare bracer last year. Actually, the instinct to block was part of my training with the Amazons over the summer, so I guess I should send their combat instructor a thank you letter."

"And who is your young lady friend?" the reporter asked, eying Power Girl.

Directing his attention to the young woman Bobby felt his vision blur as he looked at the girl, allowing him to see past the illusion of her appearance. He recognized her right away – Cassandra Sandsmark – wearing a belt made of thick leather, like a weight-lifter's belt only with the golden fur still attached. Nemean Lion skin, he reckoned, remembering his Greek mythology, which had turned out to be more than just myths. Hercules, granted immorality by the gods for his completion of the 12 labors, was said to favor the material for his belts, which along with a few scraps of cloth was all he wore, apparently. Over the ages magical artifacts became more powerful, taking on additional abilities; like the ability to create an illusion that could cloak the wearer's identity, along with different clothing.

"She calls herself Power Girl and is new to the hero gig. The Teen Titans will be taking an interest in her training, but for the time being I'm just glad she was here to help," Bobby answered the question.

Without a romantic angle to follow for the moment the reporter moved on to; "Do you know what these rogues were after? Wanton destruction, or was there a purpose to their actions?"

"It will take a full investigation to figure out what these criminals were after, but from what I saw they appeared to be causing a distraction while a teammate stole something – either from one of the shops," he gestured to the window displays along the road, "or from the exhibits on display here today. That would mean that they were organized and had a specific purpose to their actions. It's also telling that the deaths here today were caused by only one of the trio – the third showed up at the end and covered his fellow's escape while the second only targeted weapons. What that tells us is that there is some division among these criminals, and perhaps redemption for at least one of them."

"Some would call your insistence on seeing the best in people as a failing," the reported followed up, reluctant to move on but needing to for a well rounded story.

Bobby shrugged. "Every hero has a failing, and if that is mine then I'd welcome it. Unless you rape, murder, or through word or action commission the act, I think there's redemption for anyone."

"Thank you," the reporter said, pulling out a business card and handing it over before moving on to one of the officers who'd been involved.

Waving 'Power Girl' over Bobby pretended he didn't recognize her, saying, "There are some people hiding in the security station. Why don't you tell them it's safe to come out while I fill out the reports."

He was rewarded with a 'deer-in-the-headlights' look before Cassie answered, "Sure thing, Delphi."

Moving over to a police car he used their computer to file his report, which would be filed with the police, the FBI, the CIA, the DHD, the DEA, and the Justice League. He tagged the email with his contacts within each office, or the email box the report was supposed to go to, entirely from memory. With that done he helped out where he could but the injuries had either been flesh wounds from shattering weapons or fatal from temporal distortions. The paramedics had the first covered and there was nothing anyone could do about the second.

After checking in the Chief of Police Bobby headed back into the museum to find Helena Sandsmark walking around the exhibits checking things off a list, David and Cassie pressed into service along with a dozen security guards. Bobby took a list and moved around, checking things off until he came to an exhibit that had been disturbed. "What's the Silver Scarab?" he called out, investigating the scene with his eyes only.

"It's an artifact that originated in Egypt," Helena called out. "It belonged to an Egyptian hero called 'the Silver Scarab' who was taken to the Coliseum and forced to fight gladiators, wild beasts, and in some stories actual monsters, until he died – killed for harassing a Roman noblewoman who did not appreciate the attention. Carter Hall discovered the broach – a scarab made of some silver-like metal – from what I understand he was operating under a wild hunch."

"Carter Hall," Bobby groaned, recognizing the name from a recent report. Carter Hall, aka Hawkman, believed that he and Shyera Hol, aka Hawkgirl, were resurrected lovers who'd once ruled Egypt. He found it interesting that the man had followed a 'hunch' to find evidence of an Egyptian hero in Rome. Was it proof of his claim, or just a lucky guess? To Helena he said, "I think the thief was after the bug broach. You said it was made of a 'silver-like' metal – it wasn't Nth metal, was it?"

"How did you know," she asked, running over to inspect the empty display case.

"Just a hunch," he answered, stepping over to Cassie, who'd also run over to see. In a low voice he told her, "You need to tell your mom why you were sneaking out at night, Power Girl."

Cassie paled at the thought.

She felt crushed: not only had she failed to keep her identity a secret after only one outing as a heroine, but Bobby Trevor, only the most handsome and interesting teen hero in the world, was telling her to put up her cape. He wanted her to tell her mom, probably not fully appreciating the consequences of that action. Not only would her mom flip over Cassie running around as a costumed super-heroine, she'd flip out over the fact that Cassie got her powers from a trio of magical artifacts that Cassie had stolen from the New York Museum of Natural History – her mom's employer! Combine that with the sneaking out at night to train, the sleeping in class because she was sneaking out at night to train and the one instance of fighting in the halls of her boarding school, and Cassie would probably never see the light of day until she was 21.

Mouthing the word 'please', she begged him with her eyes not to tell her mom.

He sighed, and turned back towards her mom.

"Ms. Sandsmark," Bobby called out in a reasonable tone, "The police are going to be all over this place searching for evidence. If it's alright with you I'll take Cassie to my place until the dust settles."

Helena gave the pair of them an appraising look, probably wondering if there was more going on between the two teens than a friendship born of 2 months spent on a tropical island with no one else to relate to. God knew her peers at the Elias School for Girls had grilled Cassie for details on the hours spent horseback riding forested trails, or sunning on the beach, or the trips into exotic towns along the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas. Nothing had happened, though – Bobby had admitted to being on the rebound from his last girlfriend, Mary Bromfield, and had told her flat out that he wasn't looking to jump into a new relationship until he'd sorted through his feelings. While it was good to know that she wasn't just a rebound-girl, Cassie still wished that she could claim that they had kissed at least once.

Perhaps it was Cassie's blush that made her mom say, "No, I don't think so. Cassandra still hasn't explained what she was doing sneaking out of her dorm room at night."

Turning back around he whispered again, "Tell her," before heading towards the front door, calling out, "Come on, David; our car got crushed by STRIPE, so I'm going to have to ask one of the police officers to take you back to town."

"Cassandra," her mother called out, sounding both expectant and worried, her eyes flicking to Bobby's retreating form, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Maybe her mom thought that Cassie had been sneaking out to see Bobby, never mind the fact that he lived over 100 miles away through dense forests and over mountainous hills, making it more like 200 miles when all was said and done. Bobby didn't have his powers any more, which meant that he couldn't come to see her even if their relationship had been like that. She could have flown that distance, but she hadn't thought of that at the time, wanting to impress him with her prowess as a warrior right off.

Finally she relented and opened up her bag, laying out the Belt of Heracles, the Gloves of Atlas, and the Sandals of Hermes; the source of her powers. Each granted a specific ability – invulnerability, super-strength, and flight. Without them she was just a normal girl, nothing special about her unless you counted being raised by a single mother and spending her summers digging through ancient ruins.

"These . . . these are the items that went missing while we were packing for the road show," her mother gasped. "You STOLE them! Cassandra, do you have any idea what will happen when the museum finds out that my own DAUGHTER stole artifacts right from under my nose? End of my career to start, followed by imprisonment. What could you have possibly been thinking?"

Shame warring with her sense of betrayal, Cassie buckled the belt in place and willed it to change. Her clothes appeared to change into a long-sleeved white one-piece with a blue belt, boots and gloves, and a red cape on a gold rope that looped over one shoulder and under the other arm. "Ta-da," she said lamely.

Bobby came back into the room and spoke into the silence. "Your daughter helped me fight off a pair of very dangerous teens who seemed to be covering for the man who stole the Silver Scarab," he announced. "During the fight, though, she took a hit from one of them, some kind of temporal displacement power. I'd like to take her to Metro Tower to have her check out by the doctors there, the raiment's too."

"Oh, gods," Helena gasped, sitting heavily on one of the displays. "Cassie, do you feel alright?"

"I feel fine, mom," Cassie reassured her mom, who looked like she was going to pass out, then took the lifeline Bobby was throwing her, "But I think the doctors should check me out."

"Alright," the woman said. "Of course, yes, you should let the doctors check you out. Let me know if they want to keep you overnight. I . . . I love you, Cassie; I was just worried about you."

"I love you too, mom," the teenage girl said, running over to give her mom a hug before putting the three objects back into her pack and following Bobby out feeling like she was walking on air.

***WB 2/8***

"Unfortunately I can't come with you to Metro Tower just yet," Bobby said as he led her out to the street. "STRIPE wants to meet with me at my parent's place – probably an after action report on this armor." He gestured towards a 7 foot tall armor that was standing on the sidewalk. "I've called a friend, Stargirl, to show you around, and overnight stay or not you'll be spending the night at Titan's Tower."

"Really," the girl cheered, looking like she was ready to throw her arms around him.

From her point of view things must have been looking up. Helena hadn't said that her daughter couldn't continue on as a super-heroine, which was as good as license to most teens; her mom wasn't angry any more at the sneaking out and sleeping in and the one case of fighting in the halls, so that was now old news; and Cassie would be spending the night in Titan's Tower, rallying point for teen heroes from across the US. Win, win, hat trick!

Tapping the comm. bud still in his ear Bobby said, "Watchtower, one for transport to Metro Tower in five seconds."

Even before Booster Gold could answer Bobby pulled the ear bud out and tossed it to Cassie. "See you tonight, Power Girl."

Cassie smiled radiantly before vanishing into a flash of light.

***WB 2/8***

As he stepped up to the armor it read his biometrics and opened, so it was just a matter of climbing inside. Once the armor had closed up he grabbed hold of the wreck that had once been a working automobile just three hours earlier and activated the flight systems of the suit. It rose sluggishly into the air, weighed down by the twisted metal it was carrying, and he angled it towards West Brook, making the flight in less than 15 minutes. He dropped the wreck into the Auto shop's storage lot with a belated, "Sorry," before heading towards the mansion his mom and step-dad had converted into a hotel. For the moment he was too much of a coward to face the faculty with another 'destruction of property' claim.

Landing near the kitchen entrance he went inside and was told by the chef that his parents were entertaining a guest in the library. Davenport McIvor considered himself the 'MacGyver of the Kitchen', mixing various cooking styles to create meals that were usually exquisite, but occasionally came out inedible. It was an option on the menu, though, right along with cheeseburgers and oriental salad.

Heading to the library Bobby found Pat Dugan sitting with his parents, showing them a black-and-white photo. Courtney 'Stargirl' Whitmore's stepdad he looked good for a guy born in the 1920's, owing to a stint of about five years spent serving the Pharaohs of ancient Egypt when he was sent back in time. The Justice League had gone on a time-hopping expedition to retrieve Pat, and half a dozen other heroes from the 1940s, bringing them back to the modern day. A man out of time, Mr. Dugan had been going to college on the pension he'd received from the Pemberton Estate (his employer in the '40s) when he'd met Courtney's mom. Barbara Whitmore nee Hawthorn had been taken with his old fashion values and they'd gotten married after dating for a year. He was a broad-shouldered man with red hair that was going grey at the temples (more a sign of stress than physical age) and smile lines in his still tanned face.

"Hey, Pat," Bobby called out as he entered the room, "How are you?"

"Bobby," the man called out, his face spread in an infectious smile. "Come and see this, Bobby."

The black and white photo was an ultrasound image of what was either a pear with arms and legs or a baby still in its mother's womb. "A baby," Bobby said, going with the second guess, "Congrats, man!"

Pat sat back down thanking everyone for the well wishes before asking, "So, how did you like the STRIPE EEA?"

"It's compact," Bobby noted. "I don't think a guy like you could squeeze into it."

With a nod the man admitted, "I designed it to evacuate my step-daughter if a battle became too dicey or she was injured. When I heard your request for backup I sent it while she and I cleaned up a cell of brainwashed ninjas."

"Gods, you two get the weirdest villains," the young man noted with a chuckle.

"Well, the thing is," Pat went on, rubbing his neck, "Barbara wants me to stay home while she's pregnant, but I don't think the world is ready to think that Stargirl is out there fighting the bad guys on her own. I checked the telemetry on the STRIPE EEA and you did pretty good, which got me wondering if . . . that is, if your parents will agree since you're still under age . . ."

"If I'd wear the STRIPE armor?" Bobby wondered, coming to the logical conclusion.

"Just on Teen Titan missions," Pat put in, responding to Nathan's frown, "And if the world is coming to an end. Frankly, I'd rather have you in armor than running in jeans and a button down taking down villains with wonder balls and that magic tiara of yours."

Bobby considered it for a moment, looking more towards his mom than step-dad. "What does Stargirl think about this?" he asked, stalling for time, mostly.

"She thought it was a great idea," Pat remarked, sounding surprised, and Bobby wondered if that was the first time they'd ever agreed on anything.

At one time Bobby had been able to fly, lift great weights, and been mostly invulnerable, but he'd lost those powers to a magical lightning bolt that fueled the hero known as Captain Marvel. It had taken months, and a dangerously modified mystical ceremony, before he'd been able to walk unaided, and another two months of rehab to get him where he was now. Since then he'd been offered the opportunity to be a hero again; the first time he'd taken up the raiment's of the gods (the Sandals of Hermes, the Gloves of Atlas, and the Belt of Heracles), the second time he was offered a new bracer (similar to the source of his original powers), and now this. That first time, though, had been temporary from the start as he was only borrowing the items. He'd never wanted to be a superhero, so he'd refused the bracer even though it was strapped to the bottom of his desk at Titan's Tower at the moment. But this was also temporary – Pat was only asking him to fill in until the baby was born or the world was ready to accept Stargirl as a solo heroine.

His mother nodded, saying, "I understand where Barbara is coming from – having Nathan here while I was pregnant helped me focus on keeping myself and Daniel healthy even with all the weirdness that Robert was going through at the time. So, if Robert is willing, we'll let him fill in for you, Patrick."

Samantha Barnes always used full names.

"Bobby," Pat pointed out, "You still haven't said yes or no."

Frowning, he considered where his reluctance was coming from, and then finally asked, "Do we have to let the media know? I mean, I've spent my entire career with the Justice League having no secret identity to hide behind while every other teen hero has jealously guarded their personal lives. Can't I just this once not tell the media?"

"There will be a backlash if they do find out," Nathan warned. "So far you've been completely open with them, so they'll wonder about the change in your MO, Bobby."

"Tell them you're doing research," Pat offered. "If those sharks find out then tell them that you wanted to be able to understand the social pressures of trying to maintain a secret identity."

Chiming in his mom suggested, "Keep a journal of your experiences – then we can publish it once you step down as STRIPE. What does STRIPE stand for any way?"

"Special Tactics Robotic Integrated Power Enhancer," Pat answered.

"Beats his old moniker," Bobby put in. "Stripsy? Really?"

"It made more sense in the 40s – then again I'm the only known adult sidekick to a teenage hero, so I suppose I was hiding my insecurities through humor," the red-head shrugged.

Samantha waved the concern away, saying, "Knights in the medieval era typically had senior squires of lesser birth. This 'Sly' person was the knight and you the trusted squire; there's nothing wrong with that."

Pat laughed, smiling happily.

WB 2/8

Teleporting was a singular sensation as the body adjusted to being in one place and then another, almost like you were in two places at once. It took a moment for the senses to come to the conclusion that you were in a different place, and then the full effect hit.

Cassandra Sandsmark found herself standing on a balcony overlooking the lobby of the Justice League's American Embassy – Metro Tower – watching as various heroes and a mix of businessmen and technicians came and went. She recognized most of the costumed heroes and heroines, but some of them were either too new or minor league enough that they hadn't gotten much media coverage. From where she was standing Cassie could see Wildcat, an unarmed combat instructor who'd been around since the 1960s, talking with a man who looked like a gender reversed Hawkgirl!

"It's a little overwhelming at first," a girl's voice broke into Cassie's wonderment.

Turning, she found herself being addressed by a girl with long, straight blonde hair, dressed up like Patriot Poodle minus the roller-skates, but wearing a clunky red belt and holding a golden staff that looked to have an oversized knitting needle hook for a spear point and a kink in the shaft. She recognized the other girl as 'Stargirl', Reserve member of the Justice League and Active member of the Teen Titans. According to one fan magazine the star-spangled heroine's penchant for property damage was going down: just $10,000 the month the report was written.

"I'm Courtney," Stargirl offered holding out a hand, "Courtney Whitmore, President of the Teen Titans; welcome to Metro Tower."

"I'm, um, Power Girl," Cassie offered, shaking the girl's hand. "Um, Cassandra Sandsmark."

She noticed the other girl's appraising looks and feeling self conscious the new heroine asked, "What is it?"

"Well, it's just, you know; Courtney, Cassandra, Jessica – it's like we're following a theme, and we're all blondes. Next thing you know the sharks from the FanZenes are going to be saying that the hero community is biased against girls with dark hair, or boys with light-colored hair, though Bobby has been getting blonder lately, and Roy is a red-head. Still," Stargirl shrugged. "So, Bobby asked me to take you to the doctors, and the Sentinels of Magic will want to check out that belt of yours."

Following the other girl Cassie asked, "What about my sandals and gloves?"

"Bobby didn't say anything about sandals or gloves, but we'll have the Sentinels check them out too," Courtney answered. "The Sentinels are a group of minor-league magic users being trained by Dr. Fate and Zatanna. They are like the wizards and sorceresses that you read about in fantasy novels – magic wands, spell components, ancient tomes – but most of them hold down day-jobs, too."

Leaving the artifacts with a woman wearing a blue body suit and gold acumens the girls headed to the medical wing where a woman doctor poked and prodded Cassie until she was bruised in some places. The woman hummed as she looked over the vitals, asking, "When was the last time you stayed home from school ill?"

"I go to a boarding school, but the last time I was sick . . .," the young woman really had to think, finally saying, "Three, no, four years ago – I remember being sick as a dog over my birthday."

"Four years," the doctor mused. "Well, the only ones I've seen with vitals like yours are Wonder Woman and Superman, and they have cast-iron immune systems too. I'm recommending full blood work be done up – you'll have to come back next week for a follow up."

At first Cassandra was worried that there was something wrong with her, and then she realized that she'd have to come back next week, which meant another weekend hanging out with Bobby!

"You didn't actually wear these ratty old things?" one of the Sentinels of Magic asked, waving her hand over the sandals and gloves.

"The Sandals of Hermes and the Gloves of Atlas," Cassie identified them. "Yea, they grant me flight and super-strength."

"No, they don't," the woman noted. "I imagine that the sandals were used in some ancient Greek play to identify Hermes to the audience, but they were only ever leather and sinew with little wings made of small feathers. And the gloves, those were just plain workman's gloves in no way related to the punished titan. The belt, however, it has some magical properties and might have belonged to a minor Olympian."

"Heracles, God of Strength," Cassie pressed, not quite understanding what she was being told. "It's Nemean Lion skin."

With a shake of the head the Sentinel responded, "It is not Nemean Lion skin, but skin from some other lion and imbued with magic so that it creates an illusion around the wearer; probably worn by a lesser god as he associated with mortals."

Courtney seemed quicker on the uptake as she inquired, "So, the powers that Power Girl demonstrated while wearing these, the invulnerability, the flight and super-strength, that was all her?"

"It would have to be," was the answer, "as these provide nothing of the sort. However, the powers may have required a trigger, such as belief, in order to manifest. That being said there is no knowing what other powers you might manifest in future, young lady."

Cassandra was still dumbfounded as she numbly took the items, saying, "I should give these back to my mom." She let Stargirl lead her away towards the cafeteria and sat down heavily in a chair.

A few minutes later Courtney came back with a couple candy bars and sodas, saying, "So, were you, like, raised by a single parent? Do you think your other parent was a god in disguise, like in those books about half-blood heroes?"

Numbly Cassie responded, "I . . . I don't know. My mom never talks about my dad – she would just say that he was a great man, but wasn't ready to be a husband or a father. Do you really think my dad could be Greek god?"

"Well, your powers didn't manifest until you started wearing that Greek belt-o-disguises, but that doesn't really mean anything. Was your mom living in Greece when she became pregnant, or maybe hanging around a lot of ancient Greek stuff?" Courtney pressed.

"Y . . . yea, she's a socio-archeologist for the New York Museum of Natural History – she was doing a student study for her college thesis in Greece when she got knocked up with me," Cassie admitted, feeling something akin to panic rising up in her. Had the Amazons known? Was that why they'd all been interested in training her to be a warrior? Who was her dad? Zeus was the most prolific of the Olympians – half the heroes in Greek mythology were his kids – but the others had their fair share, too. Hermes, Ares, Apollo, Eros, Dionysus, Hades, and a couple dozen other lesser gods, all jumped to the top of the 'maybe he's my dad' list. "Oh, God," she said out loud, "This is going to be a long weekend."

WB 2/8

Helena Sandsmark looked out over the balcony of her hotel room at the setting sun, wondering what she was going to tell her daughter about her dad. The memories were still clear in her mind – the charming man she'd met on the Mediterranean beach on one of her rare days off from the dig site. A brief courtship as they talked about what the little villa might have looked like 3000 years earlier, and that one night of romance before Helena had found out that her roommate had been using Helena's birth control and replacing them with sugar pills. She remembered the confrontation, and the revelation.

"Apollo," she whispered.

"Helena," a man's voice answered.

She jumped to find a man sharing the balcony with her, and then sighed with recognition and relief. He was still as beautiful as she remembered, as young as she remembered, too: somewhere between 19 and 23 in age. He had blond hair, curiously golden eyes, and the kind of body that beach bums tried, and failed, to achieve – in short, he was her idea of perfect.

While a part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms the other part held her back, and she demanded, "You know about Cassandra?"

"I've been keeping an eye on her," he admitted. "Actually, I've been trying to suppress her powers for 4 years now, but her belief in those old relics she scrounged up." He shook his head and sighed.

"So . . . so she has superpowers, from you?" the mother demanded.

Apollo nodded. "She'll develop more powers over time, because it had been so long since I'd been with a woman. That does matter with gods – everything about us gets more powerful with time and we don't have the options that mortal men have, if you catch my drift. In then end she'll be somewhat akin to that fellow from Krypton – they were sun worshipers, too, you know, at least until theirs became so old and powerful he self destructed, the randy old bum."

"That isn't going to happen with you, or Cassandra, or Superman, is it?" Helena wondered.

"For me, nah, not for another 100 billion years or so, but for Cassie and that other one, well, they need to remember the story of Icarus," the god responded. "So long as they don't fly too close, or linger too long, they'll be okay."

Helena sighed, felling something akin to relief, but she knew the answer to her next question before she asked it. "Now that she's aware of her powers is there any way to suppress them again?"

The god of light, poetry and doctors, shook his head. "I can limit her, keep her from developing her full potential all at once, but the powers she's developed so far are hers for good."

With a nod the mother wondered, "I guess I should let her join the Teen Titans then."

"Horrible name," Apollo muttered. "Not as bad as the one Hermes whispered into their speedster's ear, but I wish they'd gone with my suggestion: Infinity, Incorporated."

Exasperated, Helena slapped him on the chest before going into her room. "You'll oblige me by having no contact with our daughter other than to keep her from developing powers out of control."

"Of course, I'd hate for what happened to Helios' boy to happen to me," he cringed, still standing on the balcony, the sun just a bloody line on the horizon.

"Can you stay?" she asked, uncertain if she wanted to spend time with the god again, not if it made her pregnant.

"Can't, big daddy is watching, and he's not happy. Besides, you don't really want me to stay," he answered, and in her heart she knew he was telling the truth.

Nodding, she told him, "Goodbye, Apollo."

"Good bye, Helena," he answered before the red glow on the horizon vanished and the god of the sun was gone.

Sighing for a multitude of reasons Helena fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as she considered her feelings and let the loss wash over her. It was difficult living in a godless world, knowing that there are beings which fit the description out there, having attracted the affection of one once, only not being able to say anything for fear of being locked away or having her daughter taken away. Being on Themyscira had made things easier for a time, but she'd still been afraid to tell her daughter, especially in a place where the gods of Olympus were so . . . real, no, present! She could practically feel Apollo and the other Olympians watching her and her daughter, though she got the impression that they were watching Robert Trevor more than them.

**WB 2/8**

In a shimmer of light the STRIPE EEA appeared outside Titan's Tower and made way to a garage out front of the tower. Titan's Island off the coast of Pennsylvania had been owned by the Department of the Navy until a few years ago. They'd built an elaborate town and tower in order to train Marines in urban combat, the tower acting as practice area and garrison. Aquaman had purchased the island to give him some credit among the 'land-dwellers' and leased it to the Justice League, who had in turn given it to the Titans as a head quarters. It was still used for urban combat training, but this time it was teenagers trying to learn how to cause the least amount of damage to the urban façade – and in some cases it was working wonders.

Robert Trevor climbed out of the garage, complete with a mock gas station, and ran up the stairs to the tower, shivering slightly in the cold wind coming off the ocean. Once inside he headed upstairs to the TV room that had become the official gathering place for the teen heroes.

Garth, aka Tempest, was having his usual argument with Roy, aka Arsenal, about creatures of the sea being for beings of the sea to consume. They were the only members of the usual crowd present. Two new kids were playing video games on the bank of monitors – one black kid Bobby recognized as Static and a slightly less known teen hero called Gear, both from Dakota Hills. It was a fighting game and from their smack talk it seemed that Gear had memorized the entire strategy guide, but was having trouble with the timing on the combos; meanwhile Static was holding his control in one hand and was sending electrical impulses through the control, allowing him to pull off the limited number of combos he knew quicker than his friend's better combos.

"Where's Stargirl," Bobby asked, heading to the pantry for a bag of chips.

"Showing the new girl around," Roy responded, "finding her a room, setting her up with linens and, you know, girl talk."

"Which means that they are probably gossiping about you," Garth added, smiling along with Roy at the jab.

Rolling his eyes Bobby grabbed a trio of sodas from the fridge and gave one each to Static and Gear, refilling the chip bowl while he was at it. "Have you guys gotten the tour yet?" he asked, leaning casually against the side of the sofa as he cracked open his own drink.

"Y . . . yea," Gear stammered as his character got slammed off the field.

"I'm Bobby," he told them, shaking their hands in turn. "Call me anything else within these walls and I'll put you in a headlock and give you a noogie."

"He'll do it too," another voice called out. The newcomer wore a two-tone (black and egg-shell blue) costume with a utility belt around his waist and similar pouches around his wrists, with a domino mask covering his eyes. "Robin couldn't make it so he asked me to stand in for him. Are there more sodas?"

Roy called out, "They're in the fridge, Nightwing; help yourself."

Static looked over the couch to ask, "What's going on with Robin?"

"The other parent is keeping him home – something about failing a math mid-term because Killer Croc was running amok," the former-Robin shrugged as he grabbed a soda and came to join them.

Ever since realizing that his best friend from grade school, Tim Drake, was moonlighting as Robin, Bobby had made the intuitive leap that Bruce Wayne must have be Batman. That would make Nightwing, the former Boy Wonder, Dick Grayson, but he had no clue who the 'other parent' might be as Bruce was a confirmed bachelor, and unless you counted the maids who went to clean the mansion and grounds every few days there were no women at the estate. Rumor was that Bruce had scared them off with his womanizing ways, while others said that Princess Diana had scared off the women who'd been trying to slip into Bruce's bed, while others still contended that Bruce was a homosexual pedophile, which was hard to believe because Diana went off about him whenever she felt candid.

Courtney arrived then, followed by Cassie, who cried out, "Bobby!" when she saw him, then tried to stammer an apology.

"None of that," he warned her while the girl worked around to addressing him as 'Delphi'. "I'm only Delphi when I'm in the Monitor Womb, and that won't be as often anymore."

"You mean Pat asked?" Courtney enthused. At his nod she went on, "And you said yes?"

Rolling his eyes Bobby told her, "Yes, I said yes. There are some rules though."

Throwing up her arms the star-spangled kid groaned, "You and your rules. What now?"

"I'm not going public with the moniker change," he told her. Looking around he explained, "Stargirl's step-dad asked me to step in as STRIPE – I've got one version of his armor in the garage outside, but he's given me permission to create my own. The thing is, people ask me for advice about how to keep their identities a secret, and that's one of the things I don't know from personal experience, so for as long as this lasts I don't want anyone outside our club to know who is wearing the sardine can."

"Okay," Courtney threw back, "But STRIPE is officially a full member of 'our club'. So, all in favor of making Bobby an active member, in secret, raise their hands."

She raised hers, and so did Roy and Garth. Nightwing raised his hand, saying, "Robin told me to stand in for him, which includes voting rights, I suppose."

With a nod Courtney crowed, "That's a majority!"

"On to other business," Bobby pressed, "We've got four newbie's here, sorry Nightwing. I think we should first retroactively make Nightwing an 'Active' member. All in favor?"

Roy, Garth and Courtney all raised their hands with Bobby. "Okay, so, here are the rules – in order to be an active member of the Teen Titans you have to have told your secret identity to one responsible adult. Power Girl's already told her mom, so, Static?"

"Well, my sister knows, and she's in college, so I guess you could call her an adult," he argued, "and I think my dad knows. I'm not sure, but when I was running out last time, making my usual excuse, he stopped me and told me how proud he was of me, even though I'd just told him I was meeting a friend down at the store."

There were a few amused chuckles, and some looks passed between the five 'active' members. "I think that counts," Courtney put in. "What about you, Gear?"

"No way, no how," the blonde white guy said emphatically. "My parents would have a conniption." The way he pronounced the word made Bobby wonder if he was Jewish, mostly because he'd actually pronounced it right, and the only people who seemed to be able to do that were Jews or Muslims.

"You know that means you'll be grounded," Garth put in, then corrected himself, "In that you won't be able to accompany us on missions."

Gear looked at his friend and then shrugged, "With Bobby going on missions that means someone will have to stay in the 'Monitor Womb'? I guess I'm changing my moniker, too."

"So, the vote is for Static and Power Girl to become full members and Gear to become a reserve member," Courtney called out. "For Static, all in favor?" Everyone raised their hand. "For Power Girl, all in favor?" Everyone raised their hand but Roy put in, "We're a little heavy on blondes, aren't we?" Stargirl finished, "For Gear in a Reserve capacity, all in favor?"

Again everyone raised their hands.

"It's official then: welcome to the Teen Titans!"

End Chapter Eight: Active


	9. STRIPES

Cassandra Sandsmark, known to her friends as Cassie and more recently as Power Girl, scrubbed the cleansing cream from her face and then splashed herself with cold water to reduce her pores before checking the effect in the mirror. Liking what she saw the 16 year-old heroine pulled her hair into a ponytail and put in her favorite earrings – gold stars that dangled from the hook – turning her head this way and that to check the effect. Then she took them out, thinking that might look too desperate, and then she put them back in because they'd been a gift from her mom and he'd complimented her on them when they first met.

Her watch beeped the hour, 8 a.m.; she'd meant to do something more sophisticated with her hair, but she was out of time and just left it in a ponytail.

Normally she wouldn't have been up at 8 in the morning on a Saturday, but the excitement of spending her first weekend at Titan's Tower, the worry of being voted in as an active member of the group with only one heroic action to her credit, had resulted in an early morning bathroom run. On her way back she'd passed Robert Trevor-Barnes coming out of the boy's bathroom wearing nothing but shorts and flip-flops, obviously fresh from the shower, his legs long and muscular, his chest and arms flexing as he passed his toiletry bag back and forth between hands. His brown eyes, flecked with blue and gold, twinkling as he grinned self conscientiously at being caught half naked on his way back to his room.

"Good morning, Cassie," he'd called out as they passed, "I've got KP duty this morning, so breakfast will be at 8:30."

"K", was all she'd been able to get out. Getting back to her room she'd grabbed a change of clothes and her own toiletry bag so that she could freshen up before presenting her 'morning face' to her new teammates.

On her way back to her room she passed Courtney Whitmore, Stargirl, who yawned hugely while moving towards the girl's bathroom at a shuffle. "Morning, Cassie," Courtney said around the yawn. "Oh, God; if it weren't Bobby's day to cook breakfast I would still be in bed right now."

"Morning, Court," Cassandra said back; "Bobby said breakfast is at 8:30, so don't take too long."

Courtney waved off the concern and continued shuffling towards the bathroom only to be passed by a blur that could only be Jessica Chambers, Jessie Quick.

Back in her room, Cassie dressed in white pajama pants and a blue sports top before heading to the kitchen where she found Robert in full swing, making a breakfast big enough to feed a small army, no worry about there not being enough if you were late. A delicious smell of baking muffins was coming from the oven, and packets of bacon were sizzling on hot plates. Robert, known as Bobby to his friends and family, was holding what had to be the largest pot in the kitchen in one arm and had a battery-powered drill in the other hand – where the drill bit would go there was instead a wire whisk at the end of a long bit. He turned the pot so that she could see what had to be four or five dozen shelled egg yolks to be mixed.

"Could you get me that pitcher of water?" he asked, nodding towards a pitcher that was being filled by a running faucet in the sink.

"Sure," Cassie said as she grabbed the pitcher and turned off the water.

She was a bit surprised when he gestured for her to dump the water into the pot, but he explained, "Water is the secret to fluffy eggs: when the water evaporates it leaves air pockets." He mixed the water in then ladled a layer of the mix onto another skillet where the eggs seemed to expand as the water turned to steam.

Cassie stepped back and watched as Bobby moved through the professional kitchen space, checking the bacon, turning the pancakes, laying out more eggs. In a pan on the stove he was mixing fresh fruit, preserve, water and starch, into syrups for the pancakes, and somehow he still found time to juice oranges into fresh orange juice. Over the summer they'd spent together on the island of Themyscira she'd seen him spar with the amazons, jogged with him on forest trails, and watched him cut through the waves while swimming in the Aegean Sea, but she'd never seen him in a domestic setting. He smiled when he caught her looking, and asked: "Could you set the table?"

"Oh, sure," she said, trying to hide her blush at being caught. Finding the plates and cutlery she went about setting a large table with enough places for everyone.

The only other Titans there were Hank and Don Hall, twin brothers who were about as unalike as brothers could be, sitting at a conversation table with a chess board between them. Hank Hall, codenamed Hawk, was a beefy guy – a serious body builder – with dark hair in a military-style buzz cut. Don Hall, codenamed Dove, was a slim guy – more of a gymnast's build – his blonde hair worn longer, in a more hippie style. As she watched Don moved a piece and said, "Check", and Hank then moved his piece saying, "Counter-Check".

"It's a tradition their dad started," Bobby explained. "When they were little Hank and Don's dad would set out two chess boards every morning before they went to school, and challenge them both at the same time; but when they got older they set up three games between them – Hank vs. Don vs. Dad vs. Hank. When they went off to college the brothers continued the tradition between them."

"That's cool," Cassie said, and Hank looked up to wink at her while Don made his next move.

When Hank looked back down his face fell, and Don said, "Yea, Checkmate."

That made Cassandra laugh.

The TV was on, too, playing a news program that was switching over to their international segment, "News from Kaznia today, where last night the unveiling of Queen Audrey's new education reforms was interrupted by north Kaznian extremists calling themselves the Crimson Raptors."

The video was of Queen Audrey, looking odd in a homespun dress despite the flattering cut of the linen, showing off a series of trailer/classrooms that would be pulled to the rural areas in the northern portion of her nation, where teachers would educate the young during the winter and summer months. In the middle of her speech a group of men wearing wings and armor, and wielding weapons, left behind from the Thanagarian Invasion, who tried to capture the Queen and destroy the small fleet of trailers that had been completed.

From the crowd a teenage boy rose into the air and began defending the queen, who had the good sense to retreat into a ring of body guards. Between the teen hero and professional guardsmen, the Crimson Raptors were turned back, but they shouted out dire ultimatums before taking wing.

"Calling himself 'Eldritch' the young hero is being hailed by the local media as 'The Kaznian Wonder Boy', and the queen has announced that his will be the first village to receive a classroom," the reporter went on.

Turning back to Bobby, Cassandra saw a strange look on the teenager's face, and thought she knew what it meant. "So," she ventured, "What do you think of the 'Kaznian Wonder Boy'?"

"Hum, what? Oh, Eldritch; well, he's welcome to the title – I mean it was the local media who dubbed me Wonder Boy, and it's his local media calling him 'Wonder Boy'. Let's just hope he lasts longer than the last guy," Bobby mused, referencing something that had happened while they'd been on Themyscira during the summer.

Some guy, a college student by the look of him, had stolen a Wonder Boy costume. Using Toxin, or some other super-performance enhancing drug he'd tried to aid the Justice League in stopping a rampaging mutant lizard from destroying New York City, but the injectors he'd been wearing under costume bracers had been damaged. This guy had then raided an ambulance for needles and injected himself the traditional way – the theft and process being caught by chopper camera. In a media backlash that most called extreme, the man had been forced to return the costume and promise to never style himself as 'Wonder Boy' ever again.

It had brought up questions on whether the name 'Wonder Boy' had been trademarked, which it had; by Bobby's parents.

Bobby looked back at the screen with a puzzled look, and used the remote to rewind live tv, pausing at an image of the Crimson Raptors. "Hank, are you seeing this?"

"Yea," Hank Hall said as he joined them in the kitchen, "A bunch of guys in chicken wings, with blasters; you're right, though, it is strange."

"What's strange?" Cassandra asked, annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

Don Hall answered, "Thanagarian technology is gene-locked, so only Thanagarians should be able to use them, but those guys are clearly North Kaznian: so how are they using the wings and weapons?"

Before anyone could puzzle out an answer the rest of the tower's residents started arriving; sitting down at the table and serving themselves. Cassie took a seat that Bobby politely held for her, remembering the scandal it had caused when he'd done the same for her back on Themyscira, and filled up her own plate as the new guys commented on how good everything tasted.

"There's turkey bacon," Bobby announced, passing a plate of it to Gear. "I made sure to use a separate skillet."

"Too cool," Gear replied. "Thanks, man!"

"No problem," the former Wonder Boy said as he took a seat next to Cassandra.

Nightwing tried the eggs and pancakes before saying, "I get why Robin was so bummed he couldn't come – great food and no portion control."

"It isn't always like this," Jessie commented as she ate a muffin, "Only when it's Bobby's turn to cook. Usually it's fast-food or cereal-and-oatmeal."

The food was good – the eggs fluffy and seasoned just right, the bacon crisp without being burnt, and the pancakes were light and tasty.

"Dang, man, where'd you learn to cook?" Static asked as he took a third serving.

Bobby just shrugged, but Cassandra was pretty sure she knew where he'd learned the culinary arts. It must have been the year just after his dad died, when his mom shut herself off from the world in her grief. She remembered reading that in the biography one fan-zine had done that in addition to going to school Bobby had taken up work as a part-time news photographer to make the ends meet, and done all the cooking and cleaning around the small apartment they'd lived in.

'House broken', that was how one of the girls at school had put it: he was already 'house broken'.

When Cassie had thought of Robert in a domestic setting it had been him in the backyard, relaxing beside a pool of shimmering water, working on his tan. The thought of Bobby being the more responsible of the two of them was at once both comforting and worrying. Her own attempts at cooking had come out . . . well, everyone had gotten over the diarrhea after a day or so, and the Poison Control Officer had said it was a simple mistake to make – chocolate x-lax instead of chocolate bars, especially when the x-lax label had been peeled off. Still, the only cooking she'd been given positive reviews for were sun-dried goods.

In answer to Static's question Bobby answered, "Here and there," with an amused smile.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Nightwing asked as he pushed his plate away after a second helping.

It was Courtney who answered, saying, "We have First Responder Training this afternoon, and then a briefing on police procedure, but until then nothing's planned."

"Excellent," Hank chimed in. "That means there's time for me to cream the new guys at foosball. What do you say, Static, Gear, Power Puff? Ready to get your game on?"

"Power Girl," Cassie corrected, "and I'll take on you and your brother."

"All right! You heard Powder Girl, come on Don!" Hank cheered as he headed over to the foosball table.

"Power Girl," she corrected again, already regretting falling prey to Hank Hall's bait.

She was a little surprised when Bobby moved up beside her, taking the defense positions, saying, "Best two out of three; the games ends at 15 points or 15 minutes."

"Hey, girlie said she could take us," Hank objected.

Don pointed out, "No, she said that she could take us both on, not that she'd be taking us on alone."

"Whose side are you on?" Hank argued with his brother.

Bobby answered, "The side that doesn't involve the two powerhouses in the room tearing the tower apart: she may be new at this, Hank, but I get the feeling that Cassie's only tapped into her potential, not her true power, so let's keep this friendly, okay?"

With a sarcastic smile Hank took his place at the forward paddles on his side while Don took the defenders. "Sure thing, 'Wonder Boy'."

Cassie smiled at her partner and asked, "So, do you want offense or defense?"

"I'll play defense this game, and we'll change up next game if we need to," he answered, giving her a smile that sent her heart fluttering. They took up positions on one side of the foosball table so that Bobby's right hand was controlling the goalie.

It wasn't so good for Cassie because her left hand was controlling the strikers, and that was her off hand.

On the other side of the table Don took the defense positions – the goalie and back-fielders, while Hank took the mid-fielders and strikers. It was predictable. What was also predictable was that the two played well together, like they'd been doing it for years; which, Cassie reminded herself, they probably had. What she couldn't predict was Bobby – as good as Hank was Bobby was just as good, blocking all but one shot. After 15 minutes they called it game, the score 0-1 because Cassie couldn't get anything past Don's goalie.

"Let's switch sides but keep our positions," Bobby offered, taking the defense positions on the other side of the table while Don and Hank switched positions on the other side of the table.

Don was a methodical striker, but Bobby was a crafty defender, the ball rarely passed the back-fielders to reach the goalie, or the ball was spinning so haphazardly that it was simple for the boy to send it forward. On the other hand, Hank was an indifferent defender, getting more frustrated every time Cassie managed to get the ball past him. Final score: 3-1.

"Yes! We're up by two!" Cassie cheered, giving Bobby a high-five.

"No! We're tied – one game apiece," Hank argued; "This is a tie-breaker, and we're switching sides again."

"I'll take the forwards this time," Bobby offered, taking that side of the board.

Even though Cassie was playing the goalie with her dominant hand the ball rarely got past the mid-fielders, and it became apparent that Bobby was ambidextrous, giving Don, who'd taken back the defenders, a real work out. The lead was constantly changing, and it looked like it would end in a tie, when Bobby ordered, "Let me have the goalie; take the fielders!" Cassie didn't even think about it as she sidestepped left, taking the back-fielders in her right hand and the mid-fielders in her left. Bobby, meanwhile, had the goalie in his right hand and the strikers in his left.

Working both the centerfielders, Cassie found herself running the defensive angle – preventing the ball from reaching the goalie, then moving it forward to the strikers. Bobby scored once, twice, three times, in quick succession, the goalie deflecting only a single shot. The final score was 15-7!

"We won!" Cassie cheered, turning around and throwing her arms around Bobby. She hugged him, and then realized her position – she was hugging Bobby Trevor-Barnes, and his hands were around her waist, holding her close. If she just went up on her toes, and turned her head just a little . . .

"Oh," a girl's voice intoned.

Bobby stiffened against her and looked up from what was promising to be a glorious first kiss. His arms were still around her waist, and Cassie turned her upper body to see who had interrupted.

"M . . . Mary?" Bobby stammered.

Cassie recognized the new girl from news reports coming out of Faucett City: Mary Marvel – sister of Captain Marvel. She had a sporty figure, and was wearing a white dress with a sailors flap on the back and a gold lightning bolt on the paneled front, the short skirt of the dress revealing long, pale legs right down to her heeled-pixie-shoed feet. Her hair was a shoulder-length glossy brown, and Bobby, Cassie knew from the fan-magazines, had a particular fondness for brunettes. His last girlfriend had been a brunette, though the magazines had been careful to never show her face, and to fuzz out her features when they wanted a specific shot of Bobby.

Bobby went on, his tone becoming more confident as he went, "Mary, what are you doing here? Don't tell me Captain Marvel's finally allowed you to join the Titans?"

"No," Mary Marvel admitted, turning her head away. "I . . . came here on my own – there is a private matter I need to discuss with you, Robert. In private, if you please?"

"Alright, let's go to the library," he offered, letting go of Cassie and stepping away. Then he paused and stepped back, giving Cassie a wink and telling the Hall brothers, "For losing, you two have to clean the dishes – no powers."

"Ah, man!" Hank cursed.

But Don countered, "Still better than a super-powered slugfest tearing the tower down around our ears."

"Whose side are you on?" his brother argued.

"What's that all about?" Courtney wondered, then she cried out: "To the Monitor Room!"

There was a mad dash, and Courtney followed with vague ideas of how to excuse eavesdropping. When she got to the Monitor Room, called 'Delphi', it was to find that Bobby was systematically disabling all the monitoring equipment in the room.

"You can't imagine my surprise, Mary," he said before disabling the last one.

Remembering something from a spy movie she ran through the halls, pausing only long enough to grab a glass decanter from the kitchen, and continued to run to the door of the library. There she pressed the glass against the door, trying to hear what was going on behind the closed door. Unfortunately, the trick didn't work so well.

-===WB 2/9===-

"You can't imagine my surprise, Mary," the boy intoned as he disabled a listening device, sounding hurt; "It seemed like you were avoiding me since I got back."

"Not entirely by choice," she argued, looking away because she couldn't lie to him, not even in this form. "Billy thinks that it's better to keep our identities a secret – the whole 'Wisdom of Solomon' thing."

"That, and if the Justice League found out that the one person who can take down Superman is 15 they'd throw a fit," Robert countered. At her concerned expression he waved a hand, "Robin taught me how to sweep for bugs using this room: I know where all of them are, and we're far enough away from the door to avoid eavesdroppers. Now, please, Mary, tell me what you came here for."

She rubbed her left arm with her right and looked him back in the eye. "It's my EX-," heavy on the E and the X, "stepfather."

"Theo Adams?"

"I don't have any other ex-stepfathers," Mary argued, mostly for the purpose of arguing. "He broke out of jail yesterday, and last night the remains of Teth Adam were stolen."

"So, you think Theo is trying to become Black Adam again?" the teenager surmised. "Your brother isn't worried?"

Breaking eye contact, this time out of anger, she sighed, "According to the great and glorious Captain Marvel it would take a super-concentrated power-source, enough power to level a city, like the Spark of Life."

The door to the library rattled, and then was forced open to emit a man wearing large metallic wings and a beaked helmet. Ahead of him he pushed the blonde that Robert had been playing foosball with.

"Mary Marvel," the man intoned, "I'm going to need you to clear out – I need to speak with Delphi and Power Girl, alone."

So, it was 'Power Girl'; how very unoriginal.

Robert caught and steadied the blonde, then turned to the newcomer, an uncharacteristic note of dislike entering his voice as he confronted the hawk-man, "Carter Hall, this is not the NYC, or Metro Tower, or the Watch Tower: this is Titan's Tower, and while here you will not dictate who stays and who goes."

"I very much doubt that you would speak to Superman, Batman or Wonder Woman in that tone of voice, young man," Carter countered.

His eyes narrowing in a very apparent expression of dislike Robert countered, "All three of them are members in good standing in the superhero community – you are not a League member, or a teen hero, and in point of fact I have more experience than you do."

That brought the man up short, and he grudgingly admitted, "You are right, but the situation is urgent. Yesterday the two of you were involved in the theft of an artifact, 'The Silver Scarab'."

"Involved?" Robert objected to the word.

"Perhaps 'Responded to' would be the better term," Carter countered, "Regardless, I need to know all the details – the scarab is Thanagarian technology, and is bound to my resurrection cycle."

"The same resurrection cycle that has you convinced that Hawk Girl is your true love?" Robert argued. "The same resurrection cycle you've used as an excuse to stalk her?"

Carter sighed and ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw, the only part of his face that could be seen under the helmet, "The very same. Now will you stop attacking me so that I can explain?"

Dropping his hand to his chest, the man rotated the glowing red plate at the center of the harness for his wings, his legs bending as if the wings suddenly weighed more, and he turned the plate around so that a silver object could be seen at its center. "If you've seen pictures of the Silver Scarab then this should look familiar."

It did look vaguely like an insect.

Reattaching the plate caused the wings to flex, and the weight Carter was carrying lifted. "It's the power pack that runs my wings and recharges my mace: it is a super-concentrated power-source, with enough power to level a city if breached."

Mary turned to Robert to find him staring right back at her; she knew without asking that they were on the same page as far as the situation goes.

"The two of you know something," Carter Hall divined.

Frowning, Robert asked, "How much do you know about 'The Black Adam Incident'?"

Carter shook his head.

"It was the event that led to me losing my powers as Wonder Boy. A man named Theo Adams used sorcery and alchemy to transfer the powers of Captain Marvel into himself, becoming a powerhouse to rival Superman – he took the name 'Black Adam' for the 10 minutes it took CM and I to bring him down. Yesterday Theo Adams broke out of prison, and we're fairly sure he now has the components to the ritual in hand – all that he was missing was a power source."

"Why hasn't Marvel alerted the League?" Carter demanded, actually taking a step forward as if to assault Robert, then thought better of it as Robert leveled a steely look his way.

"Because, Marvel believes that only the mystical lightning bolt, The Spark of Life, has the power to transform Theo Adams covered in mummy into Black Adam, but the way you describe it the Silver Scarab may just have the juice," Robert explained.

Growling, Carter slammed a fist against a table, causing it to break. "It does," he cursed. "When I first found the Silver Scarab I tried to integrate it into my new Thanagarian tech, but it nearly caused a cascade overload that would have leveled hundreds of square miles. It powered the starship that brought Chay Ara and I to this planet. Do you believe this . . . cabal of villains could have been working for, what was his name, Theo Adams?"

"Anything is possible, but I think they were just the muscle," Robert considered, then with more surety added, "No, I'm sure they were just the muscle – all three were amateurs, two were definitely sociopaths, but I don't think the third wanted to be there. We need to track down Adams now before he can use the scarab to transform into Black Adam – if that happens we'll need to call in the league."

"Why not call them now?" the blonde, Power Girl, inquired.

Robert nodded, saying, "Good question – this is still an internal matter: Mary Marvel and Hawkman are not members of the Justice League and have reasons to keep their business to themselves. They've come to us because we're already involved, due to our part responding to the museum break-in, which means that we are going to track down Adams and stop his twisted occult experiment."

Mary stepped up, saying, "The girls stays here – you, Hawkman and I can handle this."

"Power Girl is involved already," Robert countered. "She is coming or you and Hawkman are going alone, without my aid – and you're going to need the Oracle System to narrow down the search grid. Our Delphi interface can provide that, and without it you'll need to go to the League. Decide."

Resisting the urge to grind her teeth, Mary looked to Carter, who was grinding his teeth, and they agreed in quick succession.

Nodding, Robert led the way.

The Delphi terminal was a lot colder with just 4 people, the temperature was kept that way to protect the over-clocked computer parts that would melt otherwise, but it was also far less claustrophobic. Knowing that she would be going on a mission, Cassie had fetched her magical belt, which she used to project an illusion of being older, with her blonde hair in a short cut and her breasts straining to pop out of the oval cutout in her costume. She knew the effect was good because Hawkman was having trouble looking away, but as before Bobby seemed immune to her illusion.

Bobby was at the terminal, his hands working separate keyboards with a skill he must have developed since joining the Titans, while Hawkman and Mary Marvel dictated. "It would have to be someplace of considerable mystical power in order to convert whatever energy the scarab gives off into mystical energy Theo will need to make the transformation."

"It won't be easy to break open the Silver Scarab – the casing is made from Nth metal; pretty much indestructible," Hawkman argued.

"Pretty much?" Bobby countered, turning to look at the man with that same unfamiliar look of dislike on his face.

With a sigh Hawkman admitted, "If exposed to a sonic pulse osculating that the right frequency the shielding could conceivably crack."

Nodding, the teen turned back to the computer and pulled a search. "Okay, so who is leading the charge on sonic devices, not including Wayne Tech, Kord Industries, Queen Industries or Star Labs – Theo won't have had the time to establish those kinds of connections. And the winner is . . . SIT? What does that stand for?"

"Sivana Industrial Technologies," Mary translated. "Doctor Sivana was the man behind the weaponization of Toxin, but there wasn't enough evidence to put him away. Since then he's taken a personal dislike to my family – trying to prove 'the superiority of technology over magic', or some such – but his kids are alright. Captain Marvel, Jr. takes classes with some of them."

Bobby rolled his eyes and gave Mary a look that caused her to look away. Had Mary been lying about CMJ taking classes with the Sivana kids?

"So, we have a known collaborator of super-criminals with prior connections to a man with the potential to become a super-threat," Hawkman surmised, "and I see your other search has prioritize the mystical sites. Alright: Mary Marvel, Power Girl and I will take it from here – I'm sorry, Robert, but you have no powers, making you a liability on this mission."

With a snort, Bobby stood up and faced the bird-motifed man, saying, "STRIPE asked me to test out a new suit for him while he's away, and you need someone with technical skills. Our current tech expert is Gear, and I can keep in contact with him through the armor – besides, you don't dictate terms here, Carter."

Growling, Hawkman pointed out, "A heavy suit of armor will be a liability on a mission that should begin with stealth and end covertly."

Bobby turned to leave, announcing, "Meet me in the hanger in 5 minutes."

As the teen boy left Mary countered Hawkman's point by saying, "I have known Robert since before I was Mary Marvel, and can tell you this, Hawkman: his reasoning skills are superb. If he says we may need him, then we may indeed need him."

"He's a teenage boy with something to prove," Carter spat, "The same as any teenage boy – just because he has some training does not mean that he is superior to any."

"And your training, Carter Hall?" Mary countered. "I've heard very little about you, and according to Robert you have not trained with the Justice League."

"I have eight thousand of years of training," Hawkman sighed. "The ancient Thanagarian Absoracron I encountered in Egypt revealed only one of my past lives. Since then I have been exploring my Resurrection Cycle, uncovering other lives that I and Shyara have lived over the millennium – my memories of those lives are instructive."

Cassie scoffed, "Exploring your 'resurrection cycle'? What do you mean, like hypnosis? You do know that hypnosis is dangerous – you're basically opening your mind to a complete stranger, so anything you claim to 'remember' could just be an addled mind looking for answers, accepting the conjecture of whoever is controlling the trance as fact. I may not know why Bobby doesn't like you, but the more I listen to you the more I'm convinced he has good reason not to trust you."

Turning, Cassie left the room and headed up the stairs to the hanger, arriving just in time to see the Javelin taking off. "No," she cried out, "Wait!" But it was too late – the aero-space craft was gone.

"Over here, Cassie," Bobby's voice called out, and she whirled to find both Bobby and Gear working on the STRIPE EA.

She sighed and practically skipped to his side in her relief. "I thought you'd left without me, er, us," Cassie admitted.

He smiled, and told her, "I wouldn't leave you behind, Cassie."

There was a good chance she imagined it, but the girl could have sworn that there was an emphasis on the word 'you': like he was saying that he would have left Mary Marvel and Hawkman behind, but not Cassie Sandsmark. She could be mistaken, but she liked the idea that he would take Cassie over that other girl.

Gear interrupted, "The suit's checked out, and I've replaced the fragmentation grenades with smoke and flash grenades. Are you sure you don't want any kind of weapon?"

"No," Bobby answered, sounding authoritative and commanding; "When my secret ID comes out there will be an inquiry, so I want you to note, in whatever log you keep, that this powered armor has only ever been equipped with non-lethal munitions."

Tapping his nose Gear condoned on, "I get it; so when the press requests the logs they'll see that you never had access to lethal option. And because you were the one who requested the alteration it shows you as being proactive?"

Shaking his head ruefully, Bobby chuckled as he admitted, "I actually hadn't thought of it that way; I was trying to protect Courtney's stepdad – the press wouldn't like the idea of a 17 year-old being armed with deadly weapons and being told 'Go forth, child'"

"The media can't be that blind," Cassie argued as Bobby climbed a ladder. "I mean, you're . . . well, you."

Laughing, Bobby slid into the armor. "Cassie, if a member of the Justice League armed one teenager the media would take it that ALL League members think teenage heroes should be allowed the use of deadly force. Can you imagine the backlash for that kind of thing?"

The armor sealed, and Bobby's voice was altered by a filter as he ran through a power-up checklist. Mary Marvel and Hawkman arrived, momentarily confused when they didn't see Bobby until the armor started moving. Bobby checked the motion of the arms and legs, complaining about the limited side movement of the legs, making some of his kicks impossible.

"Well, it is a powered armor, not an exoskeleton," Gear responded.

A pair of handles popped out the back and were retracted before Bobby confirmed that the armor was functioning normally.

"But how are we supposed to get there without the javelin?" Cassie wondered.

"We fly, of course," Bobby answered. "This suit is equipped a zero-g module combined with jet propellers, and you, Mary and Hawkman can fly."

Her worries must have shown because the boy responded to her worries: "The sandals were just sandals, Power Girl – you've been flying on your own for weeks now, but if you're still worried you can ride on my back." The handles popped out again.

"Just how new at this are you?" Mary demanded.

"I've been practicing for weeks," Cassie countered, but when Bobby's helmeted head looked her way she relented, "Okay, so I've only fought crime once."

"And failed to stop the criminals," Hawkman barked. "Why do you insist on bringing this . . . neophyte along?"

"Because I trust her to have my back should things go south," Bobby answered, and Cassie happily climbed onto his back.

"I'm sure," Mary said scathingly as she kicked off into the air.

Hawkman followed, his wings spreading and beating once to launch himself skyward. Then it was Bobby's turn as he kicked into the air, rising slowly, before the jets kicked in and they were tearing into the sky. For a moment Cassie was afraid that she was going to lose her grip and slide off, but then they leveled off and decelerated a little, and she found that she could keep her hold. Maybe because of the zero-g field the armor was projecting, and maybe because she really did have the power to defy gravity. Whatever the case it was exhilarating to be up in the air, going so fast; and she felt safe knowing that Bobby was there to catch her if she fell.

As they flew along Cassie tried letting go of the handles, but she immediately started slowing down and grabbed hold again with the intent of not letting go. Mary Marvel threw her a derogatory look and the young woman changed her mind, letting go and trying to keep up with willpower alone. It took two tries before she managed it, and then she amused herself by flying circles around Bobby, who, she realized, was the slowest flyer in the group: everyone was keeping up with him.

"We need to change curse," Bobby said over their comms.

"Why?" Hawkman demanded, "We haven't reached the first nexus."

"Because a hiker just posted a report on his blog saying that a half-dozen military-like trucks had barreled up an old logging road towards one of the other mystic zones. It will take an hour to get there at my best speed," the young man explained. "Every indicator I programmed says that this is what we're looking for."

"I trust your instincts, Bobby," Mary Marvel responded, "But we need to speed things up. Power Girl, take one of those handles – you and I are going to boost STRIPE's speed."

Cassie didn't like taking orders from the brunette, but she did as she was told and together the girls pulled the armor along, making Hawkman the slowest in the group. Bobby was steering, though, directing them towards what turned out to be a wooded clearing.

Hawkman saw it first, his helmet being outfitted with vision-enhancements, and reported, "I'm seeing seven trucks in total – one is a WWII-era 6x6, the others are more modern. Mary, what does that guy, Sivana, look like?"

"He looks like a prune," the other girl answered, "Bald, slightly pointy ears, wrinkles on his brow even when he scowls."

With a huff the older hero admitted, "Well, boy, this looks like the right place." There was a pause, and Cassie was sure that Bobby was going to say something, only Hawkman called out, "Evasive action!"

"Drop me," Bobby ordered, "Missiles incoming!"

Mary immediately let go, but Cassie was caught off guard and the STRIPE armor spun as it fell into the trees below. "BOBBY," she screamed, but she didn't have any time to worry about him as a missile streaked towards her. She dodged it, but the missile turned, tracking her.

Hawkman beat his wings so that the missile went under him, slapping its tail with his mace so that the fins couldn't turn it. The missile spun out of control and exploded. Mary Marvel did something similar, striking the body, causing the thruster to cut out and the missile to drop. Cassie tried to do the same, but she hit wrong and the missile blew up in her face.

Coughing and spinning, Cassie managed to catch herself before she hit the ground and took stock of her situation to find that she was almost completely unscathed with only a couple light scratches for her noob move. She followed the others and saw that one of the military vehicles had a multi-barrel missile launcher on the back, and another two had mini-guns on swivels so that the gunners could bring them around to fire on the airborne heroes. On the ground Cassie could see the wizened man who must have been Dr. Sivana standing with a slightly overweight man who was painting himself with a blue-grey substance. Standing nearby were two men – both tall, possibly of African descent, but one was bald and appeared to have robot parts and the other had his hair in cornrows and four red eyes.

Dodging the streams of bullets she looked for the silver, insect-like, broach that had been a key part of her mother's exhibit in East Brook. Spotting it she dove for it, but she found that she wasn't alone – Hawkman and Mary Marvel were right beside her. Below them the cyborg and four-eyes were standing guard – cornrows moved his hands, as if he were throwing something – three somethings, one at each of them. Hawkman batted his aside with his mace, but Cassie and Mary were both hit.

-===WB 2/9===-

Bobby used micro thrusters to get his tumble under control but still landed heavily, breaking tree branches on his way down. He could hear gunfire and knew the others were in trouble, so he started running through the forest towards the clearing. One of the trucks had missile launchers – laser guided missiles that were being guided by a quartet of men carrying special rifles – only three of them had their weapons raised. Another two trucks had machine guns on swivels that they were using to harry the flyers.

Raising his arm he launched a smoke grenade into the quartet then he ran forward and grabbed one of the turret trucks by the bumper, upending it. He launched a foam grenade at the second truck before moving into the melee with the riflemen – snatching away the high-tech laser pointers and breaking them, turning the unlaunched missiles into rockets if the bad guys still wanted to use them. All three of the flyers used the opening to swoop down, their focus the Silver Scarab – without it there would be no way to complete the ritual. That's when all hell broke loose.

One of the men guarding it, a near 7-foot guy with dark red skin and four glowing eyes, fired energy at the three – Hawkman batted his away with his mace but the girls . . .

Mary changed course, tackling Cassie, screaming, "He's mine, we're meant to be together: I won't let you take him from me!"

"Yours?" Cassie cried back, breaking loose, "You had your chance, you stupid brownie – he's mine now!"

Another bolt of energy was coming his way, and Bobby felt the Diadem of Antiope peel away from his wrist and integrate into the armor again, he raised his right arm and the bolt was deflected.

Hawkman leapt into the fray, taking on the guy with red eyes, but there way a guy with robotic arms and legs. As Bobby moved to take him on one of the cyborg's arms converted into what his armor read as a sonic disruptor, which he was aiming at the scarab.

"No you don't," Bobby said, tackling the robot/man. Closer up he realized that the man was actually a teenager, about his own age, but half his face was covered in cybernetics and the other half of his face was emotionlessly slack, all but the eye, which blinked rapidly.

Over the comm. Gear remarked, "That's Morse Code . . . he's asking you to kill him."

"Not an option, Gear," Bobby growled as he grappled with the cyborg. "I'll find a port if you cook up a virus that will give his human side control."

"I need to know more," the tech-genius responded. "If I get this wrong I could fry his brain."

Bobby found a USB port at the base of the neck, probably a direct link to the robotic part of this poor guy's brain. When Pat had designed the armor he'd integrated new technologies, and according to the homework he'd done last night Bobby knew that there was a USB cable in the finger of the left hand. Not only that, the finger could detach, so he opened the tip of that finger, plugged it into the port on the cyborg's neck, and then detached the finger so that he could continue grappling.

"Virus uploaded," Gear announced, "reprogramming in progress."

No longer fighting for his life Bobby looked around and saw that the girls were still fighting, a superpowered catfight that had already leveled a few yards of forest and wrecked two trucks. Hawkman was still fighting four-eyes, which meant that Dr. Sivana and Theo Adams had been free to act – they had set up another sonic resonator over the scarab. Bobby activated his grav-controller and leapt at them, trying to stop them, but the resonator activates and the Nth metal cracks.

Bobby had been at ground zero, slowing Theo Adams so that Zeus' lightning bolt could strike home, so he had something to compare what happened when the Silver Scarab was cracked to. No offense to the big guy, but the spark of life almost paled in comparison to the massive amount of energy released in that moment. There was a blinding flash and it was a good thing that Bobby was wearing armor because he slammed into the 6-wheeled surplus military truck with enough force to push the heavy truck 20 feet. Alarms sounded in his ears as he pushed the metal away from himself to see a horribly familiar sight.

Dressed in a black costume similar to that worn by the Marvel Family, Black Adam hovered over the ground where the scarab had been cracked open, flexing his fingers with a look of apparent glee on his face. Adam spotted Bobby in the armor and with a hungry look he flew forward, crying, "You shall be the first to face the judgment of the God-King, Black Adam."

Bobby raised his arm and tried firing a smoke grenade, but the projectile got lodged in the tube, enveloping the armored teen in a cloud of smoke. Instead he jumped aside and the villain zoomed past him.

"That won't hide you, STRIPE," Black Adam announded.

Bobby knew that, so he set off all the smoke grenades still in their holders and abandoned the armor, setting off a destruct sequence. He mused that he hadn't even had it for 24 hours as he scrambled away. Behind him Black Adam tackled the armor, knocking it to the ground, and was about to punch his fist through the chest when the whole thing went off. Adam was tossed into the woods, more out of surprise than anything else.

Scrambling over to the cyborg that was only just beginning to recover Bobby looked between the teenager's human and bionic eye and told him, "Transmit a message to Delphi – requesting Justice League backup."

"How?" the cyborg asked.

Giving up that hope Bobby turned towards where Hawkman and four-eyes were staggering to their feet. "Carter, call for the Justice League!" He then sprinted towards four-eyes, pulling the diadem from his wrist and willing it into dagger form in order to keep the being busy while Hawkman called in.

Four-eyes, however, looked to where Black Adam is rising out of the forest and seems to curl in on himself, then burst outward in a column of flame, vanishing.

Bobby turned to find Black Adam standing beside him and can do nothing while Adam wraps a large hand around the teenager's neck, lifting Bobby off the ground. "You are a little insect, aren't you, boy?" Adam growled, a mad light in his eyes as he started squeezing.

"LET HIM GO!" two female voice shout in unison, and the next moment Bobby found himself being dropped to the ground as Mary and Cassie flew past him.

Hawkman tried to join them, but one of his wings flapped uncontrolled Carter flight turned into a crash into the side of the last surviving truck. The only hope to resolving the conflict rested on the girls, but as Bobby watched he realized that the girls were still being affected by the spell as they attacked each other as often as they attacked Black Adam. When they turned on each other the super-powered megalomaniac took advantage and grabbed them both by the throat.

"What have we here?" he mused. "You, blonde, strong and resilient – you will make an excellent addition to my harem. But you needn't worry, Mary; you will still be my Isis."

At the name Isis Adam's face fell, confusion crossed his expression, and he flung the girls aside saying, "No, that isn't right. What? What is going on?"

The diadem, controlled by its own rules, slipped out of Bobby's grip and moved up his arm to take its place around his brow.

"What is it? What's happening to me?" Black Adam demanded, "Who are you?"

As if answering himself Black Adam added, "I am Teth-Adam, ruler of the West Nile, champion of the Six Gods."

Grasping the situation Bobby stepped forward, saying, "Teth-Adam, King of the West Nile, I beg you to listen to me. My name is Robert Trevor-Barnes, and you are far from your home. A man named Theo Adams has resurrected you, imbuing your soul in his body, transforming himself into your likeness so that he can possess your power. He believes that my friend, Mary, is the resurrected form of your queen, Isis."

"Yes, I can sense him now," the black Marvel remarked as he closed his eyes and balled his fists in concentration. "Knowledge, as the wizard taught me, is power." His body twitched a few times, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the man looked around, spotting Mary. "You bear the symbol of the Wizard, child – are you this generation's guardian?"

"My, my brother and I," she agreed, then steadied her legs and announced, "I am Mary Marvel, charged by the Wizard to stand against sins of man."

Teth-Adam bowed to her then looked around the devastation, the twisted metal of the trucks and the sarcophagus that held his desiccated remains, minus two arms. He seemed particularly riveted by the cyborg who stood and pulled the USB probe out of the jack at the base of his neck. At least until Carter Hall took off his helmet in an attempt to look less threatening.

"Katar?" Teth-Adam asked moving over to help steady Hawkman, who was still having trouble with his wings.

"I was Katar Hol," Carter announced, "But in this life I am known as Carter Hall, or more publicly as Hawkman. You recognize me?"

"Yes," the powerhouse cheered, "I ruled the lands west of the Nile with Isis by my side, while you and Char Aya ruled the lands to the East. Together we led mankind into a golden age, advancing their knowledge of both science and magic."

"Much has changed, Teth-Adam," Hawkman counseled, "and not all of it for the best. Technology has eclipsed magic, humans now occupy every corner of the world, and the nations are pitted against each other more often than they are allied despite the numerous reasons to work together."

Wondering if perhaps he had been too harsh on Carter Hall, Bobby headed over to where the girls were still tottering. "Are you alright?" he asked both of them, but he went to Cassandra's side, helping to steady her.

"I'm fine," Cassie responded, her face lighting up with his concern and offer of support.

When Mary didn't respond, Bobby turned to see that the girl was surveying them with a crestfallen expression, "I'm . . . fine, you're new girlfriend throws a hell of a punch but it's nothing that I can't handle."

Nodding to them Bobby headed over to where the cyborg was standing, the human half of his face looking in disgusted fascination at his robotic hands. "I'm sorry," Bobby told the young man, "But the Titans have a very strict 'no killing' rule."

Looking up the teenager seemed surprised, and noted, "Your Robert Barnes, aren't you? You were inside that armor?"

"That was me," Bobby admitted, "Robert Trevor-Barnes, but my friends call me Bobby." He held out a hand, extending the offer.

"Victor Stone," the cyborg teenager responded, shaking the offered hand.

"AHH," Bobby cried out, a response to the grip.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Victor responded, taking a step back as he released the offered hand.

"It's okay, nothing broken," the teen responded as he tested his hand. "So, how did you get like this?"

Shaking his head the other teen admitted, "I don't know – one second I was driving down the road with my girlfriend and the next I was waking up in some mad-scientist's lab, unable to move. Thank you, for . . . for not killing me; I just, didn't know any other way out."

"You're welcome, of course, now comes the question of what you'll do now," Bobby sighed. "For the time being you're welcome to stay at Titan's Tower while both our team and the Justice League look for answers."

Victor nodded, and then he admitted, "You know, I never believed the stories about you, Barnes; how all the news reports played you up. But your refusal to kill, the way you talked that other guy down." Victor shook his head, "I just don't know."

"I'm fairly transparent," the young man countered, then looked at the wrecked armor and corrected himself, "Well, except for the whole STRIPE thing – Stargirl's step-dad asked me to fill in while he's on maternity leave from the League. Stargirl has . . . a reputation for collateral damage, so the media backlash of her flying solo would be . . ."

"A disaster?" Victor offered.

"Yea, I think that would cover it," Bobby agreed with a chuckle. "The media would label all the Titans as unsupervised delinquents and the League would be forced to increase the amount of supervision, with would cause the normal teenage rebellion, and from there things would spiral downhill."

"I get it," the cyborg said, raising his hands in surrender, "I won't tell anyone who's under the armor."

His ear comm. chiming Bobby tapped it and had to catch himself, saying instead, "STRIPE reporting."

"STRIPE, this is Wonder Woman, Delphi forwarded us your request for aid, Superman and I are 20 seconds out – what is the situation?" she asked.

"Situation is . . . complicated – Theo Adams was successful in transforming himself into Black Adam, but the personality of Teth-Adam is dominant," he responded. "We also have a teenager by the name of Victor Stone who was transformed into a full-conversion cyborg."

Two beings floated down from the sky, one man and one woman, both tall and muscular with black hair and blue eyes – they could almost have been siblings. Wearing a blue body suit with a red that featured a red-bordered yellow pentagon centered by a stylized 'S' and a red cape with the same symbol bordered in blue on the back – Superman. In a patriotic, star spangled, shoulder-less one-piece swimsuit that featured a red and gold corset, silver bracers and tiara, finished off by red boots with a white stripe running up the front – Wonder Woman. Most people considered the pair of them the 'heavy hitters' of the Justice League, and given that Black Adam was supposed to be at least as strong Captain Marvel it would take both of them to bring him down.

"Bobby," Wonder Woman sighed as she landed, "I am glad to see that you are well."

"Princess," the young man said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for responding so quickly, I would like to introduce you to Teth-Adam, ruler of the ancient lands west of the Nile. Teth-Adam, this is Princess Diana of Themyscira, Ambassador of her people – the amazons of Paradise Island – to the outside world, better known to the public as Wonder Woman. And this is Kal-El, last son of the planet Krypton, better known to the public as Superman."

"Powerful names," the ancient ruler commented, and then to Diana he added, "I gave sanctuary to a group of amazons fleeing Greece after failing to avenge themselves against the Athenians."

"The Bana-Mighdall," Diana gasped then growled, "I've met them."

Bobby stepped in, "We've met them, but that's not worth going into at the moment."

"Yes, the boy speaks true," Teth-Adam put in. "In order to prevent unnecessary conflict I would know what territories you claim."

The two senior heroes gave each other a look before Superman asked, "I'm not sure what you mean, Teth-Adam."

Wonder Woman countered, "We are founding members of a group of heroes who protect the smaller northern landmass of this world, what we call the North American Continent. Additionally, my home island is in the sea northeast of the lands you ruled in your day, called the Aegean. Robert is a descendant of the founder-king of Athens, which is now the capital of Greece."

"You are?" Cassie and Victor both called out.

Carter commented, "Now that I think of it, Theseus was the founder of Athens, and if the city still had royalty then Robert would be their prince."

"The Prince of Athens," Mary mused, shaking her head. "Just wait until the media gets ahold of that title."

Bobby just blushed, having never considered his recently revealed heritage that way.

Nodding, Teth-Adam considered, "I think it best that I take time to learn about this modern age."

Superman disagreed, "I think it best that you say your magic word and power down, Teth-Adam."

"Actually," Bobby put in, "That's probably a bad idea." Under the scrutiny of the adults the young man took a calming breath before he explained, "Teth-Adam may be old-school, but powered down Theo Adams' personality might take control, and Adams would stop at nothing to get control of the powers. That's something that should be avoided."

"I'll show him around," Mary Marvel announced, "He is a part of my mythos."

Superman frowned before saying, "I'd feel better if . . . a league member were involved."

"I will go with her," Wonder Woman included herself.

Mary spoke up, saying, "Robert, could I speak with you for a moment?"

Bobby nodded and followed the brunette while Superman stepped up to engage Cassie in conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Mary murmured, "Look, I need to say this – I was wrong; I was wrong not to join you for the summer, I was wrong to call things off between us, and I was hoping that we could get back together. But I'm not stupid, I know that you're with 'Power Girl' now, so . . . so, I want you to know that, that I still want to be your friend."

Rubbing the back of his neck the young man tried to figure out how to respond to that, and in the end just said, "Thanks, Mary, that means a lot to me." He gave her a one-armed hug and accompanied her over to wear Wonder Woman and Hawkman were standing with Teth-Adam.

Superman concluded his conversation with Cassie as military helicopters began to gather – Cadmus Labs arriving to take charge of the situation. "I shouldn't be here," Bobby realized with a start. In order to maintain his 'secret identity' he couldn't be connected with the damaged STRIPE armor. He jogged over to the wreckage of the armor and tapped his comm. "STRIPE: requesting teleportation to Titan's Tower."

-===WB 2/9===-

Cassie arrived back at Titan's Tower feeling like the proverbial wash-cloth – wrung out and put away wet. She'd had to talk fast to get around the fact that Bobby had been wearing the STRIPE armor, and she was pretty sure the overweight black lady in charge, Amanda Waller, hadn't been fooled. Then she'd accompanied Superman and Victor to the laboratory where Victor had been transformed from a mortally wounded car-crash victim into a battle-ready cyborg. Honestly she hadn't been able to make heads of tails of it, but Victor said that he recognized some of the equipment as having belonged to his father – a researcher at Star Labs.

Superman had promised to look into it while Cassie and Victor had been teleported to Titan's Tower.

Bobby was waiting for them when the pair shimmered onto the sidewalk outside the tower with Static and Gear close behind. After making introductions he left it to the pair from Dakota Hills to show the cyborg around while he pulled Cassie to the side.

"I wanted to apologize for leaving you hanging," he said, "And for how I treated you on Themyscira. When Mary dumped me you were patient and kind, the kind of person that I'd like to have in my life, so . . .." He paused, unsure of how to go on while Cassie felt a sense of infinite possibility opening up. "Would you like to go out with me?"

Her heart beating a mile a minute she struggled to control herself, saying, "Yea, that would be great. Tonight?"

"I tried to get movie tickets for that new Rom-Com, but it was sold out; so the choice is Circe-de-Sole or Monster Jam," he said offered, letting her chose.

"Monster Jam," she cheered after a moment of thought – she'd always wanted to see massive trucks pancaking cars. Besides, she didn't have anything elegant enough for the theater.

She was about to head upstairs to change when he warned, "Cassie, you should know that the media is going to hound us as soon as we step out together. If it gets to be too much . . . I won't blame you if you want to stop seeing me."

Cassie skipped up to her new boyfriend and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, saying, "Except that I already know you're worth getting my picture plastered everywhere. I'm going to change."


	10. Conflict

NOTE: Most of the characters depicted are the intellectual property of DC Comics and are used without their permission, but also without the intent of making money from this work. This story is designed to fit into the DC Animated Universe, specifically the Justice League cartoon series, though some of the characters have been adapted slightly from their cartoon portrayals.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Powerless  
Chapter 10 – Conflict

The Gottfried Estate Bed and Breakfast was a large mansion surrounded by palatial gardens and sided by thick forests. Owned by Samantha and Nathan Barnes the house featured 20 room for rent, an indoor lap pool with a small kiddy slide, and a large library. Hiking and riding trails had been cut into the forest, providing the guests plenty of activities year round. Ever since the hotel in the nearby town of West Brook had burnt down the B&B was pretty much the only place to stay.

Clean rooms and plenty of activities, some customers came to the minor celebrity who called the mansion home.

Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes had once had the power to lift emergency vehicles over his head and fly at subsonic speeds, but he'd lost those powers. Once called Wonder Boy he was now known as Delphi, and secretly as STRIPE. In an effort to understand the difficulties faced by teens with secret identities he'd not told the public about the recent moniker change. He was keeping a journal for when he came out about the experiment and had even adopted a 'secret lair'.

Most everyone knew about the room under the library – at least, those who knew about his early heroics. The room had been built by the house's previous owner, Professor Eugene Gottfried; who had been Samantha Barnes' great-uncle. Professor Gottfried had used the secret room to continue the research he'd done for the US Government's Cadmus Labs. Cleared of the arcane notations and pseudo-potions, a radiant floor had been laid and computer equipment brought in. A holographic display in the corner showed the new STRIPE armor that he and his teammates were designing to replace the one that the teenager had totaled on his first outing with it.

Robert, known as Bobby to his friends and family, wasn't using the room for anything nefarious – he was doing his homework.

It was just four days from the Columbus Day weekend, and mid-terms were coming up that Friday. His biggest worry was the computer programming class that he was struggling in, so he was reviewing his notes when one of his secondary screens flashed: Visitor.

He locked down the computer and unlocked the disguised door before climbing up the narrow stairs that led to the library. A bio-metric lock secured the door behind him. Built into a tower the library was a circular room with bookshelves lining the walls, a balcony creating a second floor. The main floor was decorated with an eclectic selection of chairs, couches and tables, and hanging from the ceiling was a massive computer system that ran everything from the library's tracking system to the robots that did most of the cleaning at night.

There were a few guests, but no one was reading as all attention was focused on a statuesque woman with long black hair wearing jeans and a V-neck white tee-shirt under a denim jacket.

"Cousin!" Bobby called out, going to the woman's side to give Princess Diana of Themyscira a hug. He had schooled himself to only look at the woman's face, especially when she was wearing the spectacularly revealing costume she wore as Wonder Woman.

She hugged him back, saying, "It's wonderful to see you, Bobby. How have you been?"

They took a seat on a couch, effecting to ignore the camera phones that were being pointed their way as Bobby answered, "Well enough: Half my teachers announced that they are doing quizzes on Friday, and most of the others are planning pop quizzes for that day, too. Mr. Gaylor, my chemistry teacher, is the only one not planning anything, but his class is all labs."

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Diana inquired before they were interrupted by Samantha Barnes, Bobby's mother, who was cradling the young man's half-brother, Daniel, with Nathan Barnes close behind.

For a few minutes Diana was side tracked by the baby, wanting to hold him and comment on how big he had grown since she'd last seen him. Danny, for his part, loved the attention, and at 3 months old was just as fascinated by the amazon princess. He cooed and clapped, and even managed a giggle. Bobby was always amazed by how much control the warrior woman had over her immense strength, knowing that there was a narrow margin between the princess and Superman in strength.

Her maternal instinct satisfied, Wonder Woman returned to her question, "Do you have plans for this weekend?"

"Not really," Bobby answered, wondering where this was going. "I'm supposed to help STRIPE with his new armor, but STAR Labs is having difficulty fabricating parts." Their focus was on Cyborg's needs at the moment.

Cyborg was the moniker of the team's newest member – Victor Stone – who had been transformed from a critically injured automobile accident victim into a powerhouse with robotic body parts. STAR Labs was still trying to figure out how Dr. Sivana had integrated had integrated human and robot, and searching for ways to turn the 19 year-old into a normal man again.

Normally Bobby spent his weekends with the Teen Titans, a club within the Justice League that was focused on the group's few teenage members. He was considered by most to be one of the 6 founding members, because his name had been on the first roster, but he considered himself to be their first new recruit as the team had formed while he'd been on Themyscira recuperating from the loss of his powers.

"Well," Diana said, uncharacteristically hesitant, "My friend, Audrey, sent me an invitation to her birthday party, and there's a +1."

"What about the BW?" the young man asked, referencing the fact that billionaire Bruce Wayne had been seen on her arm from time to time, including at Queen Audrey of Kaznia's last birthday party.

"Bruce has some business deals coming up that he can't miss," the woman answered, referencing, perhaps, the recent mass breakout from Archam Asylum. Bruce, as Bat-Man, and the rest of his extended family, would be working overtime to put the nutjobs back in their cells. "Besides, Audrey has been asking about you – she wants you to meet Eldritch."

Eldritch, known as the Kaznian Wonder Boy, was relatively new to the world of super-heroics and was working with the Kaznian government to negotiate away the conflict between northern and southern ideologies. The manufacturing centers in the south would not be able to produce a quarter of the nation's gross national product without the natural resources of the north. Unfortunately the two sides of the nation had been polarized in previous generations, the urbane south calling the north 'peasants' and the rustic north calling the south 'oppressors'. If anyone could heal the rift in the nation it was their queen, Audrey.

Still 17 years old, Bobby turned to his parents, asking, "What do you think, mom, Nate?"

Nathan Barnes was Bobby's step-father and had a sometimes rocky relationship with his step-son. "I'm not sure," he considered, explaining, "There's that group, the Crimson Raptors, threatening violence over the queen's education reforms."

The 'Reforms' were mobile homes/classrooms designed to increase the education level in the north.

Samantha considered this as she cradled her newest baby – Robert was her only child with her first husband, Daniel Trevor, and like any mother she was afraid of endangering him. However, she had accepted the fact that Robert had a calling that was greater than his family. Nearly a man now, he was an exemplar to a generation of would-be heroes and a leader among his set of high school and college age heroes. The woman also knew that her son had been chosen as a champion of Iris, the Greek embodiment of Unity: perhaps he could help unite the fractured nation.

"I'm counting on you to keep him safe, Diana," the mother admonished.

"Of course," the amazon princess agreed, giving the other woman a hug. Still, she turned back to Bobby for the final decision.

He frowned, considering, "I don't have anything planned, but Cassie and I just started dating. Any chance I could bring her along?"

"I'll speak with Audrey," Diana promised, giving the young man a hug. "I'll pick you up Friday after school: I have a driver's license now!"

WB 2/10: Diana

In the end the additional invitation wasn't needed: Cassandra had failed a couple of her mid-term tests, and the boarding school she attended was insisting that the girl say for the weekend to study for makeup tests. Diana liked the girl, but the blonde powerhouse would have to work hard to be the equal of Robert. The boy wa intelligent, creative and dedicated, as evidence while putting his photographic skills to use for the high school football team. She watched as he fearlessly ran into the huddles, sprinted down the sidelines, and even took to the field sometimes.

Diana was aware that some insinuated that there was a romance between herself and Robert, but that had never been the nature of their relationship. Robert represented a lost branch of her family, being a descendant of Hippolytus, the son of Antiope. Antiope had been this sister of Hippolyta, Diana's mother. When Diana had reopened the lines of communication with Man's World Hippolyta had made it a priority to learn of her sister's fate, at first mourning the Greek legends, which told of the deaths of both her sister and nephew. Then she'd learned that Roman legends told that Hippolytus had survived, and fled to Rome where he had married and eventually become a minor god.

It was from her nephew's exalted form that Hippolyta had learned of the continued bloodline, and tracked it through the ages to the Trevor family.

Though Diana had only met Robert the previous year she'd met his grandfather during an adventure into the past. Steve Trevor had been an agent of the Strategic Information Service during World War II, and had been instrumental in decoding the German communications. When she'd come back to the present Diana had done some investigating and tracked Colonel Trevor to a retirement home. He had married after the war and had two children, a boy he named Daniel and a daughter he'd named Diana. Unfortunately the woman's namesake had died, tragically, and in their grief Steve and his wife had decided to have no more children.

The game ended with a loss for the Eugene Gottfried Memorial High School. Last year the team had been devastated by a corrupt coach who had encouraged his players to use an illegal, and highly dangerous, performance enhancer. Very few of last year's team had returned as many lawsuits were still pending. Mostly sophomores and juniors, the football team accepted their loss with good grace, leaving Robert to download the pictures before he could leave.

When that was done Robert jogged out of the school and moved the Diadem of Antiope from his wrist to his forehead. The diadem had been a gift of Hera to Antiope, who had been the queen of the Amazons. It was bound to Antiope's legacy, and could only be safely worn by one of her descendants. One of its magical properties was to reshape itself, the sliver wires shifting from a fanciful design into a circlet, both centered on a blue star.

Robert's hair, originally a light brown, had turned blond under the Aegean sun over the previous summer, and had stayed blond despite the lack of strong sunlight. His eyes were normally blue-flecked brown, but the blue star centered over his eyes made them appear to be brown-flecked blue. The muscle definition he'd worked to regain after losing his powers remained, and seemed to be amplified when wearing the diadem openly. Combined with the blessing of Eros Diana understood why girls his age seemed obsessed with her distant cousin.

"Cassie can't make it," he sighed while climbing into the candy-apple red Mustang convertible. "Nice car, by the way."

"Bruce helped me pick it out," she cheered while pulling out of the parking spot and joining the cue to exit the lot. "I am sorry about Cassandra: I even had a dress picked out for her. Well, at least now she'll have more reason to do well in school."

Robert chuckled, "What? Pass her classes and go to fancy parties?"

"Something like that," Diana laughed. On a more serious note she asked, "How was your date with Cassandra?"

He rolled his eyes as they reached the freeway out of town. "Mom and Nate asked about that, too. We went to the movies, had a lot of fun, and are planning another date."

"You were photographed kissing her," the woman pressed, and was pleased to see her cousin blush.

With a shrug he downplayed the event, saying, "The situation just felt right." Defensively he added, "It wasn't technically our first date, or our second."

Diana was well aware of that as she'd chaperoned the couple's first excursions to the villages and towns along the Aegean shore. Watching Robert interact with someone his own age had given the woman insights into the boy's personality that she'd been lacking when she had been his mentor during his tenure as Wonder Boy. At times she wondered if she knew then what she knew now would Robert have lost his powers, or would she have allowed him to become a hero at all.

They arrived at the airport where the Javelin Aero-Space Vehicle was waiting. Bobby strapped down the cargo, being careful to balance the weight. When that was done he moved forward to the co-pilot's chair and strapped in while Diana completed the pre-flight check.

Noticing the new control interface he asked, "What's this?"

"A new stealth feature designed by Wayne Technologies," Diana answered. "It's supposed to make the Javelin invisible."

Snorting, Robert remarked, "Really, an invisible plane?"

Diana just shrugged.

Travel by javelin was relatively straight forward – reach an altitude above the commercial flight ceiling but below the satellite belt, where the air was thin, and then push the thrusters up to full. In all it took one hour to reach their destination, at which time they secured the plane and headed to the 'winter palace' where Queen Audrey of Kaznia was to celebrate her birthday. Although it was being billed as a lavish affair all the decorations and foods were made locally, made of local foods. Gone were the days when Audrey would travel to foreign locals or import the feast – she was mindful of the people's needs, and trying to celebrate the triumphs of her people.

Her guest list consisted of leaders from the northern villages, CEOs of southern companies, nobles from around the nation, dignitaries from the foreign consulates, and a few pretty-boys that she may or may not end up sleeping with.

Shown to separate quarters in the palace Diana was surprised to find a note from the Greek ambassador. She flipped it open and almost closed t immediately when she realized that it was addressed to Robert, but her eyes were drawn to the body of the missive.

'While I object to the use of the title my government has chosen to allow you to style yourself as 'Prince of Athens' so long as you understand that there are no rights or privileges attached.'

The message was followed by the typical salutations and a list of titles that meant nothing to many. As an ambassador herself the list told Diana that the man who wrote it was a senior member of the consulate, but not the last word in his chain of command. Hippolyta had mad the Greeks aware of Robert's status as soon as the proof was confirmed, perhaps expecting them to adopt him as their ruler, but that had not happened. Despite all the political upheaval, or perhaps because of it, the Greek government and the capital of Athens had refused to make the title official.

What had prompted the reversal Diana did not know, and she found herself wondering how Robert would react.

WB 2/10: Bobby

"Now introducing, her majesty, Diana, Crown Princess of Themyscira; and her escort, Robert Trevor-Barnes, Prince of Athens," the crier announced.

Bobby tried not to betray his annoyance at the title. He knew that there were strings attached to this kind of concession. As he came down the steps into the ballroom Bobby's eyes went to the Greek ambassador, a sour faced man wearing a sash in the colors of his nation. Even though he was only 17 years old he could tell that there was a political minefield waiting for him. Fortunately he was young enough to be excused for avoiding it as long as possible.

As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs where decorum allowed it, the teenage boy made a bee-line for the tables laden with snack foods. There would be a supper later, but his metabolism had been running higher than normal lately: probably another growth spurt.

He didn't realize until it was too late that he'd avoided one minefield and stepped into another. With a plate full of food he turned around to find himself surrounded by women wearing black and burgundy sahes with silver pins at the shoulder marking them as nobility or corporate elite. There were about two dozen of them, ranging in age from 14 to 40, all with the same look in their eye.

Desperate, he looked around and spotted a knot of young men watching with evident jealousy. He waved to them, begged them with his eyes to help him and all the while knowing that they owed him nothing. One of the young men came forward, and Bobby leapt to the offensive. Reaching through the gathering Bobby pulled the other boy to him, saying, "Hello, my name is Robert Trevor-Barnes, but my friends call me Bobby: have you met . . .?"

He lost track of the names as he made introductions between the noble women and daughters of business executives to the sons of village leaders with a mix of noble men. The women came to him and Bobby reached out, blindly catching the arm of a man, pulling the guy over and pairing him with the woman. Suddenly he found himself out of paramours and feeling like he hadn't eaten all day. Looking around he spotted a couple standing against the wall not far away – a handsome man with his arms around a beautiful woman who was clearly pregnant. The man raised a glass of some golden liquid in a salute before the pair seemed to vanish.

"Dat vas very impressive," said a voice to his other side, and Bobby turned to find a teenager about his own age taking the last of his snack food from the plate Bobby had filled a half hour earlier. "I vouldn't 'ave let the Yankovik sisters get avay though," he gestured to a pair of sisters – one 19 and the other 16 – who were in deep conversation with twin brothers. "Mine name is Mikael Serkovic, but some know me as Eldritch."

"The Kaznian superhero," Bobby cheered, shaking the man's hand.

Mikael seemed to relax at the gesture, saying simply, "I am, and you are Robert Trevor-Barnes, the American hero called 'Delphi'."

"That's me," he chuckled, and offered, "But my friends call me Bobby."

"Booby," the other teen tried, grimacing as his accent butchered the name. "Perhaps I should stick vith Robert."

"If you like," Bobby replied with a smile.

The other teen was taller, with black hair and nearly black eyes, wearing a black suit of a militaristic cut with a sack of black and burgundy, a simple inverted star made of silver at the shoulder. It was tasteful, and in keeping with the dress clothes of the other Kaznian men, but there was something calculating about the older teen that Bobby couldn't quite define.

"Ze Queen, she vas pleased to learn you vould be coming," Mikael commented, turning his head slightly towards where Queen Audrey and Princess Diana were holding court.

"I think the queen was more pleased to know that Diana wasn't going to cramp the queen's style by bringing a serious date," Bobby countered as the pair of women laughed at some joke told by their circle of pretty-boys. "I highly doubt that her highness is plotting an international incident by seducing a foreign minor."

That mollified the older teen, who took Bobby's plate saying, "I'll get you a refill since I ate your snacks."

He came back with a lot of foods that bobby had never seen before, but he decided to give them a try and was surprised by some of the flavors. About halfway through the plate the supper was announced and Bobby followed his new friend into the dining room. He was shown to a seat where he was flanked by a pair of young Kaznian noblewomen who spent the course engrossed in conversation with the peasant sons on their other sides. He didn't complain as it gave him time to enjoy the food, which was plentiful and flavorful; too flavorful for some of the older nobles, who complained about the spices.

Between courses they all stood up to allow the waiters to change dishes, and then they would sit back down in different places. The young man noticed the men and women that he'd seen before between meals, but they were never seated at the table. He finally asked Diana about them.

"You can see them?" Diana sounded surprised. "That is Cupid and Psyche, the gods of initial attraction and abiding love. Their presence means that some new romance is about to unfold, but in the meantime they are overseeing minor romances, using you as their agent."

"Me?" the boy barked. "What can I do that a god and goddess could not?"

In response the amazon gestured to the young couples that were still engaged in conversation after three hours. "You can make introductions. I was about to come to your aid when all those women flocked to you, but then I saw you pairing them off with two love gods watching on and knew you would be okay."

"Thanks," the ten sighed as he threw up his hands. "Do you think 'Agent of Initial and Abiding Love' can go on a resume?"

"Probably not, but I'm sure Cassandra will love the story," Diana countered before finding a new place at the table.

A pair of girls insisted on sitting next to each other, which left Bobby sitting next to the Greek ambassador. There was a few minutes of tense silence before Bobby finally said, "I never asked for the title, Mr. Ambassador, and neither did Princess Diana. You can be sure that I'm not expecting any special treatment from you or your government."

"That is a very mature statement, Mr. Barnes," the ambassador responded, "But the issue is not whether any 'special treatment' should go with the title, but rather the expectations of others. When people hear you addressed as the Prince of Athens they will expect you to have some connection to my nation beyond an ancient ancestor who was driven from his father's home by a lecherous stepmother. I am not adverse to your using the title, but I am afraid that my government is trying to maneuver you into declaring yourself for them."

"Why?" Bobby wondered, appalled.

"Because my nation has no superheroes," the ambassador sighed over his wine. "None who are nationally, let alone globally known, at least. Among the legislature there is a hope that you may be . . . well, there's no point in sugar-coating it; they hope that you can be bought."

Rolling his eyes Bobby promised, "I'm not interested in anything your government could offer, sir. They can claim me, but they aren't going to buy me; especially given just how messed up your country is right now."

"What would it take," the man wondered, "to make you proud of the country of your forefathers?"

Giving it some thought, Bobby answered, "A fair flat tax, the sacking of government officials that are proven to be corrupt, and drop the Euro." He chuckled at the list, knowing that no government was going to agree to the terms of a punk teenager.

The ambassador agreed as he raised his glass, saying, "Good luck with that!"

WB 2/10: Bobby

Bobby was questioning how he was going to find room for the next course as they rose from the table and was about to ask if he could be excused from the rest of the dinner when the window at the end of the room exploded. Three men burst into the room wearing crimson wings and beaked helmets, carrying weapons that the teen recognized from the Thanagarian invasion.

At the front of the formation the leader cried out, "Kaznia for the Crimson Raptors! Death to the monarchy!"

Grabbing a plate Bobby threw it like a discus, the dish flying straight to shatter against the alien rifle. The impact knocked the weapon up and away so that it discharged into a wall behind the queen. Diana had stepped in front of the queen, her bracers held ready to deflect another shot while Mikael's formal clothes transformed into the Kaznian-patriotic costume. It was black, with a burgundy wedge from shoulders to belly, an inverted white star on the chest.

"Eldritch, tablecloth gag," Bobby called out, and the Kaznian hero grabbed the tablecloth and pulled, tripping the trio of assailants.

One fell towards Bobby, who grabbed the 'X' shaped harness the Crimson Raptor's wings were attached to and threw the criminal to the ground. He then twisted the plate in the middle of the 'X', detaching the power source, and used it to knock the man out. Grabbing the Thanagarian rifle Bobby brought it around, looking for a target to find that Eldritch had taken out a second Raptor while the third, the leader, was winging towards the window.

During the invasion Bobby had seen Thanagarian soldiers stun their targets with their rifles, and he found the selector switch, but when he pulled the trigger nothing happened. He checked the weapon but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it.

"He is getting avay," Eldritch cried, and made to go after the third.

"Wait," Diana ordered in an imperial tone that stopped the local hero. "I managed to get a tracer on him: he'll lead us right to his hide out."

"Nice," Bobby laughed. "You've been spending way too much time with Bat-Man though."

She smiled, and turned to the queen, "With your permission, Queen Audrey, I would like to call in the Justice League."

One of her military advisors scoffed, "Zhat is unacceptable – zhis is an internal affair and is none of . . ."

Audrey cut him off, saying, "Both Wonder Woman and Delphi are already involved."

"You insisted on having Eldritch for this sort of thing," another advisor pointed out

To counter this the queen asked, "Mikael, do you have any objection to working alongside the Justice League?"

He considered for a moment before saying, "I have no qualms about vorking alongside zhe League, but perhaps ve should limit zhe team."

Agreed, Diana said, tapping the ear-bud that she'd just put into place. Wonder Woman to the Watch Tower, I need Shyera Hal: we have Thanagarian tech in Kaznia."

Bobby fitted his own bud in place in time to hear the dulcet tones of the Martian Manhunter saying, Shyera is on a space assignment, but Carter Hall is on standby here; I could send him."

With a disgruntled sigh Diana agreed, "Please send him to my location as soon as possible. Wonder Woman out."

Bobby helped a group of soldiers strip the pair of Crimson Raptors, noticing identical surgical scars. "What are these?" he wondered, but no one offered him an answer.

In a shimmer of light Carter Hall, Hawkman, appeared, causing confusion in the crowd who looked at his wing harness and beaked helmet, almost identical to the Crimson Raptors. The color scheme was different, and the helmet was of an older design.

"Don't mind them," Bobby called out as he looked over the Thanagarian tech, "we just got attacked by nut-bars with your sense in fashion."

Carter tossed Bobby a backpack, saying, "I've been briefed. Your friend, Jesse Quick, thought you could use that. I also have a communicator for you, Eldritch – consider yourself an honorary member of the Justice League."

"I am honored," Mikael bowed as he took the device.

Opening the bag the teenager found a dozen of the devices the media had dubbed 'Wonder Balls', sparking all sorts of jokes about the state of Bobby's manhood. Designed by Mr. Terrific and originally called 'T Spheres', either black or red in color with the alternate colored 'T'; these were blue with a white star. A set of HUD goggles completed the standard equipment, but there were also some items that were new: gauntlets and vambraces. Both had half-circular indentations in them designed to hold the Wonder Balls. The balls could hover and maneuver, and by having a pair connected to his legs and arms would allow him limited flight capabilities.

Hawkman checked the tech over and shook his head, saying, "All of this is new Thanagarian technology, leftovers from the invasion: it's gene-locked so that only Thanagarians can use it."

"Shaking his head the young man considered, "I'm sure that these guys weren't Thanagarian. I thought they had natural wings, though."

"Most do," Diana answered, "But the wings are prone to disease in the lower class and have to be amputated, and then there are the slave species. The invaders didn't bring any of them along, knowing that the global ethics would be against them from the start."

"Guaranteeing that their hand would be tipped before the hyperspace bypass was completed," Carter finished. "In Katar Hol's time the only race we knew of was our own."

It frustrated Bobby, made him feel like he was missing something, that the Crimson Raptors could use the tech when they shouldn't. He pulled on one of the harnesses, which included a pair of sleeves, ignoring Carter and Diana's remarks of how it wouldn't work. Attaching the power/control disk did nothing, but the teen had one more trick up his sleeve: or rather on his forehead. He remembered how the diadem had integrated into the STRIPE armor, converting a force field projector into a mystical energy shield, so he took the magical artifact and held it against the power disk.

Silver wires flexed and penetrated the disk, and the blue star changed white as the straps and sleeves adjusted to fit his body and a strip on the back adhered to his spine. The red straps also changed color, a white stripe running up the middle third of the straps. He could feel the anti-gravitational properties taking effect, making him feel almost weightless, but when he tried to use the wings they hitched.

Carter came over and checked it out. "The wings were damaged in the fight; I recommend ejecting them," the man suggested, providing a wire that connected the control disk to Bobby's goggles. "I use this to run diognostics on my wings."

"Got it," Bobby said as he blinked through the proper routines to disconnect the wings.

"How did?" the man asked, and then shook his head. Instead he explained, "The harness will project a force field around your body that will protect you from small arms fire and enhance your strength. It will also protect you from environmental extremes, so I recommend you take your shirt off so that the sensor on back has direct skin contact."

"Thanks, Hawkman," Bobby told the man before deactivating the harness and taking it off so that he could take off his shirt. Most of the guests had left by this point, their security details whisking them to heavily armored cars or the palace staff escorting them back to their assigned quarters, so he had few witnesses to see him bare-chested. Not that he had anything to hide – spending the summer on an island of extremely celibate women unused to the presence of the opposite gender had stripped him of most modesty issues, and he had excellent muscle definition. Not quite a six-pack, but still nothing to sneer at.

Diana had been on the communicator with the Watch Tower, getting a triangulation on the tracker. "He's stopped," she announced. "Are we ready to go?"

Giving her a mock salute Bobby replied, "Delphi, reporting for duty, Princess."

She smiled and ruffled his hair before spinning in place, somehow, magically perhaps, transforming her dress chotes into her costume. When done she nodded to Mikael, telling him, "This is your country, Eldritch, you should lead the way."

Looking nervous the older teen nodded and flew out the window with the three league members closing a diamond formation behind him. Below them people cheered as they flew overhead, especially for their local hero, who was in the lead.

"Not very stealthy," Bobby noted as he listened to the cries of 'Vunder kin, vunder kin!"

"There is a time for stealth," Diana replied, going on, "and that time will come, but right now we should take the opportunity to promote Eldritch in the public eye."

Bobby wondered, "Is that what you and the queen were discussing?"

"Well, that was mostly girl-talk, but she did ask about public relations ideas," Wonder Woman answered. "She was going to corner you tomorrow, Robert, to ask how you've managed your PR."

"I don't manage my PR," the young man replied. "I tell the truth and let people paint themselves into corners trying to deny what I tell them."

"So, you make zhe media lie, and zhen catch zhem in zhe lie, ruining zheir credibility. So, vhen the zay something negative no vne believes zhem?" Eldritch wondered aloud.

"You're over analyzing," Carter corrected. "Don't worry; we all do it when it comes to Robert: everyone wants to believe that that he's nothing but a punk teenager playing an angle."

Bobby countered by saying, "I am a punk teenager."

Diana cut in, "He's just not playing an angle."

"Zo, because he is zhe first, a punk teenager, everyvne believes he must be zhe second," Mikael chuckled.

They flew north, well outside the city, with Eldritch in the lead until Wonder Woman directed them to land. "Our tracker stopped on that hill."

"On or under?" Eldritch asked, explaining, "Zat vas an old mine – zhe Crimson Brigade used it during zhe invasion."

All of them turned to the local hero, and Wonder Woman asked the tricky question, "Who were the Crimson Brigade?"

Blushing, the hero explained, "Vhen zhe Thanagarians arrived a brigade of zhe army objected and abandoned zheir posts. Zhey hid here, and began to train northern dissidents to resist zhe aliens. Vhen zhe Thanagarians 'tipped zheir hands', as you say, zhe Crimson Brigade led zhe charge to repel zhem. I vas a message runner; zhat vas before my powers developed." He added that last proudly. "Once zhe threat vas past zhe brigade returned to zheir post, bringing vith zhem all zhe alien technology zhey had captured, but zhe dissidents . . ."

Wonder Woman finished, "They went back to the north, and formed the opposition forces that the army has been fighting since."

Eldritch nodded. "It is somezhing zhat ve don't vant known, zhat ve trained zhe forces zhat are causing us zuch difficulty now."

Bobby decided to divert the subject, considering, "Apparently the brigade didn't turn in all of the tech – some of the proto-rebels must have squirreled some away and spent the last couple years figuring out how to get past the gene-lock." The memory of the surgical scars kept coming to mind.

"Zhere was just vne at first – zhe Crimson Raptor, he vas called by my people . . . I mean, zhe northerners," Eldritch said, blushing at the last.

"You're from the north," Diana soothed, "It is important that you keep your cultural identity – Audrey needs a northern ally, not another military asset."

Mikael nodded and went on, "Zhe Crimson Raptor, he attacked military convoys zhat vhere transporting alien tech, became a, how do you say? A cult hero? But zhen he vanished – a few military units claimed to have killed him, but zhere vas no vay to confirm zhat. Zhen zhe Crimson Raptors appeared: zhey vhere not zhe same – zhe Raptors took everyzhing, killing zhe soldiers."

There was something there – something was going on, and it had something to do with the surgical scars.

Wonder Woman nodded to the hill, towards the mine, musing, "They came here because they believe that they are still fighting an invasion. We need to get in there and find out how they are using Thanagarian tech, and how much of it they have."

Bobby felt a tickling sensation along his spine and looked down the row of heroes. From their looks Diana had felt it too, but Hawkman and Eldritch had not, so with a nod the two of them moved in unison. Turning, Bobby grabbed the barrel of the rifle wielded by the rebel who had been trying to sneak up on them with one hand and the butt with the other, leveraging the weapon up and forcing the man holding it to let go by putting all the pressure on the man's thumb. He kneed the would-be assailant hard in the groin, then spun the weapon the opposite direction, slamming the butt into the man's chin, knocking him out.

Next to him Diana threw her lasso, snaring the other man and yanking him towards her, performing a cloths-line that sent him spinning. She then spun, catching a third rebel in a spin-kick that dropped him too.

Eldritch swore as he turned, his hands encased in red energy that he looked ready to throw while Carter raised his mace, also ready to go, but they were fresh out of targets.

Quickly the quartet stripped the rebels of weapons, finding a radio that squawked a minute later with a man's voice demanding a report. Eldritch grabbed the radio and held it in one hand while cupping his other hand over one of the unconscious attacker's throats. When Mikael spoke he did so with the other man's voice, "It vas nothing: a bear sniffing for scraps. Lexi peed himself."

There was laughter mixed in with the order, "Ve're sending out your replacements; come back in and Lexi can change his shorts!"

"Copy," Mikael answered the order. Releasing the button he added, "Vell, now ve have a vay in."

"For three of us," Wonder woman pointed out.

"I'll stay here," Bobby offered. "Hawkman has the technical expertise, Eldritch the cultural, and you are the senior member, Wonder Woman."

Eldritch countered, "I can disguise us, but, vith your pardon for zaying zhis, princess, but it vill be difficult to hide your . . . ah, shape."

Carter nodded, adding, "It makes tactical sense to have our powerhouse in reserve and the utility player up front."

Diana considered that before saying, "This is your team, Eldritch – we'll play it your way: just remember that I'm not some silly debutant or village girl. You WILL call me if you need me."

"Ah, yes, I vill," the Kaznian teenager agreed quickly.

With the plan in place they stripped the three men and put on their clothes, Carter folding his wings under his arms and over his chest to minimize them, putting on the biggest coat. Once they were dressed Mikael placed one hand over his face and another over the face of the man he'd imitated before, making identical wiping motions. When the teen hero pulled his hand away his face was an exact match for the other man's.

"It is just a glamour," the teen explained. "It vill vear off in an hour, unless I, ah, refresh it."

He repeated the process on Carter and Bobby, and they shouldered their weapons before heading in.

Bobby couldn't decide if wearing someone else's face was cool or creepy. He wished he had a mirror to see if his smile was translated to the foreign face, or if the smiled belonged to the person who owned those features. And despite his new friend's reassurances the teen worried that he might end up wearing the other man's face forever.

They approached the entrance of the mine that Mikael remembered and were stopped by a man carrying a Thanagarian mace at his hip. "How big vas the bear?"

"Not large," Mikael countered, "But it came out of the bushes like a bat out of hell."

The militant laughed, but Bobby and Carter missed a beat.

The militant looked suspicious, so Bobby counted, "My pants are vet. Can I go change now?"

Everyone laughed on cue, and Carter clapped Bobby's shoulder at the quick thinking. They were waived into the complex in good humor and followed Mikael past soldiers who were making a shift change. Checking their weapons they headed deeper into the complex with Eldritch in the lead, the time he'd spent as part of the Crimson Brigade coming in handy.

In one deserted passage they stopped and Carter asked, "How many languages do you speak, Robert?"

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked, confused.

"English, ancient Egyptian, now Kaznian?" the man replied.

"Not to mention Greek, and your accent for both North and South dialects vas perfect," Mikael added.

Bobby felt a shiver run down his spine as he considered that, offering as an explanation, "It's one of the diadem's powers." He hoped that was the case, because he had no other way to explain away their claims unless it was to call them liars.

To distract himself Bobby opened his coat and released the Wonder Balls, which cloaked themselves before zipping down the tunnel, mapping the area. He kept one of the Wonder Balls in reserve and used it to display the map so that the others could see it. In short order several large chambers were displayed – barracks, latrine, mess hall, armory. One room caught his attention – the wireframe being displayed wasn't like anything that Carter or Mikael could explain. Pulling on his goggles he switched over to direct feed and gasped: "It's a mobile clean-room."

Following the map the trio entered a large cavern with the plastic clean-room at its center. Inside was a surgical table, and hanging against one wall were a pair of large wings that had been mutilated. Bloodstained feathers were molting from the appendages, and the flesh over the primary bones had been cut away. Observations fell into place to make a disturbing pattern in Bobby's mind.

"Bone marrow," Bobby gasped. "Those scars I saw on the Crimson Raptors who attacked the party – they were bone marrow grafts: that's how they are getting past the gene-locks."

Carter shook his head, arguing, "Bone marrow from a Thanagarian's wings would only work if she was . . . pregnant." His face twisted at the last, and they were all forced to imagine the depravity that the Crimson Raptors were engaged in.

"Zhis goes beyond military action," Eldritch growled, "Beyond differences in politics and religion. To harm a voman, any voman, to rape her and mutilate her: it is against everyzhing I vas raised to believe."

Bobby tapped his comm, asking, "Diana, did you get all that?"

"Yes," she answered, pure wrath in her voice.

With a nod to his companions Bobby said, "I think we're all agreed then: this ends tonight."

Another voice interrupted them, a man demanding, "You three, vhat are you doing down here?"

The three heroes turned to find the third Crimson Raptor from the attack on the queen, still wearing the red wings and helmet. He was accompanied by two men who were supporting a barely conscious woman with red hair between them and a man wearing stained scrubs. She raised her head slightly, and they could see her face through a part in her lank hair, her hazy green eyes void of hope. Bandages covered her back, over where her wings had been amputated.

"You bastards!" Carter roared, and he grabbed the table, tipping it up and then hitting it with the back of his axe. The table didn't break – instead it rocketed forward, slamming into the Crimson Raptor.

While Hawkman dropped his coat and spread his wings Bobby ran forward, kicking off the table and doing a backflip that put his apex above the two soldiers. Upside-down he grabbed the heads of the rebels and knocked them together, knocking both men out at the same time. The men dropped the woman, staggered and collapsed to either side. He then pulled off his own coat and wrapped the woman in it before dragging her to one side of the cave where she would be safe.

Eldritch summoned more of the black energy and directed it at the doctor, who had been sprinting for an alarm. The man in scrubs wasn't burned through, as Bobby had feared, but was instead knocked into the wall, his head bouncing off the stone. Dropping to his knees the doctor tried to crawl, but collapsed instead.

The woman knelt next to the young man, her eyes focused on Hawkman and the Crimson Raptor, who were fighting in the middle of the room. Under his hands Bobby felt the girl jerk in his arms, like she was trying to join the fight, and he had an impression that there was an arrow in her back. Looking around he spotted the archer wearing the clothes of the dissidents, taking aim at Hawkman. Combat instincts took over, and Bobby leapt across the room, tackling Carter to the ground, and felt the arrow's fletching's brush his back.

Grabbing a the table the Crimson Raptor leader made as if to swat the two prone heroes when a red-blue-gold blur terminated against the criminal's back, resolving into Wonder Woman. Suddenly accelerated, the bad guy smashed into the surgical table, staggered but recovering, when Eldritch slammed his fist against the Raptor's stomach, knocking the air out of him and dropping the man to his knees. Towering over the bad-guy, Eldritch cursed the man and when the man looked up the teen brought his fist down against the side of the Raptor's head, knocking him out.

Bobby scrambled to his feet and looked back to the archer, who was nowhere to be seen, and then to the Thanagarian girl, who was still kneeling where he'd left her. She was still staring at Carter, but now her eyes were filled with emotions – awe and desire evident. There was no sign of an arrow.

Shouting voices could be heard coming from the tunnel, and an alarm was pulled somewhere – the alarm sharp and strident. Wonder Woman's dramatic entrance had kicked up the hornet's nest.

"Do we leave or fight?" the young man asked, recalling his Wonder Balls.

"We fight," Hawkman growled as he took up an axe in each hand.

Diana knelt next to the girl and asked, "What is your name, sister?"

"Kendra Talak," she responded, still staring.

"My name is Diana, and my friends and are will get you out of here. First I need to know, are you hurt?"

In a daze, still staring at Carter, she answered with tears starting to fall from her eyes, "They took my wings, but they said that it wasn't enough. They said that they were going to take both my legs, and one of my arms, so that I could feed myself with the other!"

Comforting her, Diana promised, "We won't let that happen."

"Why," Kendra asked, still crying, "We tried to destroy your planet, enslaving your people before we left."

Carter knelt next to the girl and told her, "Because, it is the right thing to do. We will not judge you for the choices of your leaders."

She looked up at him with that wondering look and asked in a whisper, "What is your name?"

Hawkman hesitated for a moment before answering, "Carter Hall."

"Katar Hol," she sighed, causing Carter to stiffen and frown. He shared a look with Wonder Woman before rising to join Eldritch at the tunnel.

"I've got this, Diana," Bobby offered, tasking four of the Wonder Balls to create a force field around the woman while the Amazon princess took her place with the men at the tunnel. He arrayed the other balls around the tunnel mouth while he backed the formation, tasking a couple of them to shine bright lights down the tunnel – this served to blind their attackers. The others he tasked with identifying weapons and firing lasers to disable them; which meant that if the attackers decided to close the distance they would be going hand-to-hand with one of the League's best fighters and the angriest.

Eldritch fired concussive energy at the men who came down the tunnel, knocking the dissidents backwards into their fellows. Those few who made it through were quickly dealt with by Wonder Woman and Hawkman, who was watched by Kendra with an eager fascination. Meanwhile Bobby went around, tying up the men that were already knocked out and stripping the last Crimson Raptor of his wings.

The combination of position and people made it impossible for the half-trained soldiers to find an advantage. On top of that the Crimson Raptors were being pressed from the other side by the Kaznian military, who had tracked their hero to the location. Gunfire could be heard, and then the Raptors that came around the corner were walking backwards, firing at something on the far side. Bobby canceled the function of the wonder balls targeting weapons just in time for the first of the Kaznian military soldiers to cross into the passage.

"Down here," Eldritch called.

Bobby turned off the spot-lamps too, so that the soldiers could see their hero standing front and center.

"We have four prisoners and one wounded," Wonder Woman told the soldiers, "We need a soldier to check her vitals before she is teleported to the Watch Tower for specialized treatment – we have experts in Thanagarian physiology."

"An alien?" the soldier said in Kaznian. "I have to report this." He called it in to a Lieutenant Novak.

Lieutenant Novak's reply was, "Hold position, I am coming."

For the foreigners the soldier said in heavily accented English, "You are to stay here."

Bobby pulled back all his wonder balls, attaching some them to the indents in the plates Jesse had made for him. The rest he kept in reserve, not liking the way things were turning.

The officer, Lieutenant Novak, had been at the queen's birthday celebration, but he had changed out of his dress uniform and into the standard duty uniform, plus a Kevlar vest and helmet, knee and elbow pad, and padded gloves, the knuckles of which were bloody, as was the butt of his rifle. The rifle was an M-4/320, meaning that it had a grenade launcher under the barrel, and also had a non-standard drum magazine. His first words were in Kaznian, directed at Mikael, "Did you figure out how the Raptors were using alien tech?"

Eldritch responded in English to keep his teammates informed, "They vere taking bone marrow zamples from zhis female Thanagarian's vings and transplanting zhem into zhere soldiers. Vhen the vings were exhausted zhey planned to harvest more zamples from her arms and legs."

Nodding, the Lieutenant turned to his solders and said in Kaznian, "Take the girl into custody."

Bobby and Diana closed ranks in front of Kendra, and seeing the defensive action Hawkman charged his axes. Diana spoke with the authority of a princess and warrior-born when she told the soldiers, "No, we promised this girl an end to the experimentation and exploitation – she comes with us."

In worse English than the soldier who'd called him in the Lieutenant growled, "Zhiz iz an internal matter for zhe Kaznian goonvernment and zhall ve dealt vith internally. Zhe Juustace League hass no jurisdiction in dis matter."

"We'll just see what your queen has to say about that," Diana said, reaching for her communicator.

In Kaznian the Lieutenant ordered the soldiers to raise their rifles, raising his own to aim it directly at Wonder Woman, who hesitated with a steely look in her eyes. Struggling with his accent, the Lieutenant told the gathered heroes, "You are here by ordered to leave Kaznia pending an investigation. You vill depart vithout further incident, leaving everyzhing you 'ave found, including zhe girl, or I am under orders to motivate you to depart."

"Stand down," Mikael ordered, stepping between the soldiers and the League members. "You vill stand down, Lieutenant Novak or rest assured I vill be speaking to zhe queen about your conduct."

The lieutenant ground his teeth, but it was obvious that, as the official Kaznian superhero Eldritch had a direct line to the queen that the officer could not circumvent or block. In a clipped command he ordered his men to lower their rifles.

Eldritch looked the officer in the eyes as he explained, "Zhe queen herself put me in charge of zhis mission, lieutenant, zhat means any decisions regarding zhe fate of prisoners rest solely on me. At zhis time zhe Justice League vill depart vith the girl; zhey vill travel directly to zheir aircraft and leave Kaznian airspace. Vhen the girl is healthy she vill return under zhe queens hospice to answer questions concerning her imprisonment at zhe hands of zhe Crimson Raptors. Vonder Voman, are zhese terms understood?"

Diana nodded, saying, "I understand and will comply with the request of the Kaznian government. We'll leave now."

Bobby pulled the diadem from the alien harness, deactivating it with the explanation, "I wouldn't want to be accused of theft, now would I?" He left the harness on the ground and put the diadem back on his forehead. Using the goggles he deployed the balls in a defensive formation as they were escorted out of the mines by Eldritch and the soldiers. Back in the open air Bobby turned to the other teen and offered his hand. "Remember, just tell the truth and let others trip themselves up."

"I vill remember zhis, Robert. Safe flying, all of you," Eldritch responded, shaking hands with all three of the League members. To Kendra he added, "And I vish you a speedy recovery."

"T-thank you," she responded with uncertainty in her voice. The girl looked to Carter and smiled, and the man frowned.

Diana carried Kendra and Bobby used the wonder balls to tether himself to Carter as they flew away from the mine, back to the Javelin. Eldritch must have called ahead because they were cleared to lift off and were on their way to the Watch Tower.

When they landed Diana announced, "I need to contact Queen Audrey. Robert, show Kendra to the infirmary."

Bobby dissented, "Actually, I need to speak with you, Cousin."

Diana considered the look he was giving her before nodding to Carter, "Hawkman, could you see Kendra to the infirmary?"

"Of course," the man responded, and the girl was at his side with an eager smile.

He followed the princess to an empty hallway with windows that looked down towards the planet below before saying, "Carter says I can speak ancient Egyptian, both he and Mikael observed me speaking Kaznian, and Mikael heard me speaking Greek to the ambassador. How? And don't tell me it was the diadem, because I wasn't wearing it that last time."

The princess hung her head and looked out over the planet. "The Ceremony of Sisterhood calls on five of the most powerful goddesses to bless the woman seeking admission to our order. In the modified version we performed for you it called upon five of the most powerful gods, but instead of strength, durability, and immortality you appear to have developed other gifts; the gift of languages among them."

Bobby leaned against the window and hid his face in his hands, his worst case coming true. "I'm a cheat," he moaned, "Everything I can do is a cheat: my grades, my fitness, everything!"

"No," Diana countered, placing her hands on his shoulders, "Bobby, you were an amazingly intelligent and fit person before you found that bracer. Not just anyone could have found that lab. Not just anyone could have scrambled over rooftops to take the photos you did. Not just anyone could have balanced work and school, and still found the time to take care of a grieving mother. Do you have abilities no one else does? Yes. If you feel guilty about that then rededicate yourself to using your gifts to help others."

Although Bobby nodded he still felt conflicted as he walked away.

End Chapter 10: Conflict


	11. Fate

Note: Most of the characters in this story are the intellectual property of DC Comics and are used without their permission, but also without the intent of making a profit. This story is meant to be a part of the DC Animated Universe, specifically the Justice League: Unlimited cartoon series, with some slight alterations for story progression.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Powerless  
Chapter 11 – Fate

Even though it had been almost a year since he'd gone by the moniker 'Wonder Boy' the media was still going with the theme, naming the room under the library of Gottfried Manor 'The Cave of Wonders'. The room and the tower library above had been built by the manor's previous owner, Eugene Gottfried, as a place to continue the techno-arcane experiments that had gotten him kicked out of Cadmus Labs for being too extreme. Dabbling in mystic arts and fringe science, Doctor Gottfried's research had been focused on created a magically fueled superhero as an answer to the Justice League's powerhouses – Superman and Wonder Woman. The search would eventually cost the doctor his life, as the energies needed drained the man, and the products of his early failures were caustic to a human body. The coroner hadn't known what to make of the doctor's death, putting it down as multiple forms of cancer, but noted that the man's internal organs looked like a jigsaw puzzle put together by a blind two year-old with a mallet.

No one had known about the room at the time of the doctor's death, and the house and grounds had been inherited by the doctor's niece once removed – Samantha Barnes.

Having remarried after the death of her first husband, a Gotham City Police Detective, in the line of duty Samantha had moved to New York with her new husband, Nathan Barnes, and her son, Robert Trevor, to start a new life. Samantha and Nathan's plan was to transform the estate into a Bed and Breakfast. The first night in the manor Robert, called Bobby by pretty much everyone but his mother, hadn't been able to sleep, and had gone to the library looking for something to lull him to la-la land. He'd discovered the room the media was now calling 'The Cave of Wonders', though at the time it looked more like a cave of horrors.

Chalk boards with a combination of arcane symbols and scientific notation covered most of the walls, all except for a peg board that held examples of the early failures, the ones that had eaten away at the doctor. On a center table, in pride of place, had been a metallic bracer with strange runes etched into the metal, and three stars on top. It had been the only thing that hadn't felt sinister, and Bobby had picked it up to get a closer look. He now wondered if some unseen force had been guiding him as he tried on the metal sleeve that covered his arm from wrist to elbow, only to discover that once someone put it on it would not come off – not without extreme measures, anyway.

The media had dubbed it the Power Bracer because it granted the boy the powers of flight, strength and invulnerability, but Bobby had a different name for it – the Power Shackle, because as he soon found out that with great power came the expectation that you would abuse the power. Shoved into the media spotlight, his every move monitored by every government agency in the United States and abroad, he had turned to his mom and step-dad for help in navigating the potential minefield that was super-herodom. For all of two months he'd been Wonder Boy, been mentored by Wonder Woman, and been touted by the media to be everything a teenage superhero should be – polite, honest, dedicated, humble, and above all unmasked.

Without the benefit of a secret identity Bobby had been forced to drop out of sports due to the unfair advantage the Power Shackle gave him. This had been a major blow, because he'd been hoping for a sports scholarship to pay at least part of his college tuition, his plan being to take college courses in law enforcement and criminal psychology before joining the Police Academy, so that he could follow in his father's footsteps and become a police detective. Developing superpowers had not been part of the plan, losing said superpowers and becoming crippled in the aftermath had definitely not been part of the plan.

For six months the teen had lived on Themyscira, the island nation of the immortal Amazons, while Wonder Woman performed deeds for the Olympian gods to earn their favor. Then, in a mystical rite based on the Amazon's Ceremony of Sisterhood, Bobby had been cured of his disability – three uber-powerful elemental beings that he'd been unconsciously holding inside of himself so that they wouldn't wreak destruction upon the land in retaliation for being contained within the Power Shackle. He'd spent the summer recuperating before coming back to the United States with his plans finally on the path he'd intended from the start.

The only deviation was his continued involvement with the heroic community, first as the Teen Titan's coordinator, dubbed Delphi after the temple of Apollo, and then as a stand-in for STRIPE while the man was on maternity leave with his pregnant wife.

While the Shackle was considered Doctor Gottfried's greatest achievement there was another of his creations still on the loose – an inverted pentagram made of sliver wire that supported four rubies that looked like eyes. Bobby had seen it when he'd found the Shackle, but his neighbor, Theo Adams-Bromfield, had stolen it along with the rest of the hidden room's contents. Most of the stuff had been recovered from the Bromfield's basement after the teenager had lost his powers bringing Theo Adams down, but the pentagram and a few other odds and ends had been missing. Somehow, probably the work of a jilted teen jock turned criminal calling himself DeToX, the sinister creation had found its way to New York City, and was now in the hands of a psychotic pyro-kinetic going by the name 'Blood'.

As it was a part of Eugene Gottfried's legacy Bobby was pretty sure that sooner or later he would be asked to retrieve it, and was trying to track down Blood's location.

On top of that he had school, homework, the Teen Titans, and his girlfriend, Cassandra Sandsmark, to balance. As everyone knew that Bobby had been Wonder Boy and was now Delphi, the Gottfried Estate was popular for more than just the hiking trails and back-country skiing – some came just to gawk at Bobby and pester him with questions about the 'secret lives' of their favorite superheroes. Needing a place away from the public eye the old laboratory had been turned into a computer lab where the teen could focus on his homework and keep in contact with his friends over the Oracle Operating System.

Monitors had replaced the chalk boards, a computer terminal had replaced the peg board, and there was a mini-fridge stocked with water and snack foods. It was a place where he could say names without worrying about people overhearing him, something he couldn't do in his attic bedroom or on the library floor without blowing the secret identities of his friends.

Two days after his adventure in Kaznia, Bobby was sitting in the cave speaking with Tim Drake, the orphan-ward of billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, secretly known as Robin and Batman respectively. Tim was scrambling over rooftops on patrol while Bobby followed him with one of the softball sized devices that the media had dubbed 'Wonder Balls' even though he'd started using them after he'd changed his moniker to Delphi.

"I'm not saying you didn't have your reasons," Tim said over the secure Justice League frequency, "Just that you didn't HAVE to tell your principal about your new ability! What happened to you trying out a secret identity, STRIPE?"

The ability that Tim was talking about was called meta-lingual, and was the power to understand any spoken language. Bobby had spent most of Tuesday being tested by his high school's language teachers and a few of the multi-lingual students, all to prove what he'd told the principal at the start. A report in the teen-interest section of the Daily Planet read 'Former Wonder Boy Develops New Power!'

Bobby nodded, a movement that wasn't translated to the blue ball with a white star on the front that was following the Boy Wonder. "I know," he sighed, and then explained, "But this doesn't have anything to do with STRIPE and could keep me graduating if it's found out later in the year. At least I learned that it doesn't extend to written languages, so there's at least a point to me taking college language courses."

"You could have learned that from League linguists," Tim pointed out. "So, how did the teachers take it?"

"They were glad I'd completed my language requirement in Gotham," Bobby answered with a chuckle. "You know, before the superpowers and stuff. So there's nothing to keep me from graduating on time – could you imagine having your diploma pulled?"

On the image captured by the wonderball Tim stopped to consider that. "Well, I guess gear will never unmask if that's the case," he commented, talking about one of the two heroes in Dakota Hills, new members of the Titans. Gear had a meta-gene enhanced intellect that put him on par with some of the smartest people on the planet.

"Probably not," Bobby agreed, looking towards a holographic display of the powered armor Gear had designed to replace the STRIPE armor that Bobby had totaled in his first outing as the armored hero.

Taking a running leap Tim threw himself off the side of a building, pulling out a gas-powered grappling gun to tag a hanging gargoyle on a nearby building so that he could swing to another rooftop, showing off a little with some acrobatic stunts that would have made professional parkour artists jealous. Back when Tim and Bobby had been fighting school-yard bullies it had been Bobby who'd been the better fighter, but the dynamic had changed when Tim's parents had died and the boy had been adopted by Bruce Wayne, aka Batman. Under the Dark Knight's brutal training regimen the new Robin had been taught multiple forms of martial arts and deductive reasoning skills before being allowed to don the costume and take to the streets.

"Show off," Bobby muttered, getting a smile out of his old friend.

From somewhere nearby they heard a woman scream, "Help! HELP!"

"Hero time!" Robin cheered as he raced along the rooftops, leaping over the gaps between them until he got to the alley where two men were backing a towards a brick wall at the dead end. Both men towered over the woman, one was broad shouldered and the other wirier and wielding a two-foot section of pipe as the loomed closer.

Tim leapt into the void, firing another grappling line at the fire-escape in the alley. He swung down like a bird and at the end of the swing let go so that he soared through the air like a trapeze artist, right over the heads of the toughs. Reaching down as he passed the Boy Wonder grabbed the heads of the two men and knocked them together in a move that produced an almost comical effect. Staggering, the two men turned away from each other, fell backwards and cracked their skulls together again before passing out on the cold concrete of the alley. Bobby took note of the street and prepared a bulletin to be sent to the police and paramedics so that they would be able to whisk the thugs to the hospital before arresting them for attempted larceny, or whatever they'd been about to do.

Landing with a gymnast's grace Robin turned towards the thugs to make sure that they were out, joking, "That evens things up a little."

"Not really, Bird Boy," the woman replied as she pulled a wooden sledge from under a pile of wood next to her. She blindsided Tim with the hammer, her fedora falling off as she spun around to reveal the pasty face, domino mask and red/black jesters cap of Harley Quinn, the Joker's deranged girlfriend, the rest of her outfit hidden by a trenchcoat.

"ROBIN," Bobby shouted through the communicator as he sent the wonderball zooming into the alley, meaning to harass the woman with it until she left.

He only just saw a side door open to admit the Joker himself into the alley, crowbar in hand. "Batter up," the Clown-Prince of Crime declared as he swung the crowbar like a bat, and Bobby had only enough time to project a force field that saved the device from total destruction. It fell to the ground, most of its functions disabled by the blow, but it was transmitting sound, so Bobby heard the Joker quote, "A bird in the hand . . ."

***WB 2/11: Bobby***

The young man gave himself just two seconds to panick before he sprang into motion. He copied the video and location of his downed wonderball into a data packet that he transmitted to the Bat-cave through the Oracle Operating System that ran both Metro Tower and the Watch Tower, forwarding a copy to Spoiler, Tim's girlfriend. She and Tim were supposed to be meeting up later, so she should be in the area.

Giving his ear-bud a tap Bobby called out, "STRIPE to Watch Tower."

"Uh, Watch Tower," Booster Gold responded.

"Booster, I need you to patch me through to Batman," Bobby said as he dumped his books from his school bag and repacked it with gear.

"No can do," Booster responded in an annoying sing-song tone. "He's already yelled at me when I connected him with Superman two minutes ago – something about him being a part-timer and to not bother him unless it's end-of-the-world stuff."

"Alright, get me Bat-Girl," Bobby ordered harshly, impatient with the oft-inept superhero running operations.

"Okay, okay," the man placated.

"Bat-Girl," the feminine voice of Gotham's female avenger chimed.

"This is STRIPE," Bobby told her, "I was on comm. with Robin when the Joker and his gal-pal jumped him. I've uploaded the location and video to the Bat-cave."

"Got it," the college-age girl responded a moment later.

Bobby shouldered his pack, saying, "I'm on my way."

"Negative," a harsh voice cut in – Batman himself. "Bat-Girl and I will handle this." The comm. cut off with a pop.

With a growl the teenager turned towards the stairs, hitting the button that retracted the hydraulic ram he used as a door lock before sprinting up the stairs and through the door into the library proper. He burst into the room to find his mom, who had probably come to tell him that dinner was ready, standing almost in front of the door. She recognized the almost desperate look on his face and instead of asking her son if he was hungry she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Robin's in trouble," he answered, mindful of the guests who were using the library. The place was better stocked than the school or town library, so there were quite a few high school students there, too. "I need to get to Gotham."

She kissed him on the forehead and told him, "Do what you have to, Robert."

He kissed her on the cheek and ran outside, tapping his communicator again. "Booster, I need a site-to-site transport to the location of my downed wonderball."

"Uh, actually Batman just told me not to teleport you anywhere," the man responded.

Taking a deep breath Bobby used the steadiest voice he could manage to say, "Booster, if you don't teleport me to Gotham I'm going tell Wonder Woman that you've been using Skeets to spy on the women's locker room. Who do you think she'll believe: you or me?"

"One site-to-site to Gotham City coming up," the man responded faster than Bobby expected, which meant that Booster really was using his robot companion to spy on the women's locker room.

Usually teleportation was from a location to a pad or from a pad to a location, which was fairly safe with only a .0001% chance of error. Site-to-site was far more dangerous, with a .01% chance of error – essentially you were reformed on the pad and then instantly transported to the target location before all your molecules had time to settle. Most League members preferred to travel by Javelin, but tonight Bobby was in too much of a hurry.

He closed his eyes on the forested countryside of western New York and opened his eyes on the Gotham street opposite the alley with Booster's apology, "That's as close as I could get ya with a site-to-site."

"My lips are sealed," Bobby responded as he knelt, opening his bag to release a dozen wonderballs. Pulling on a set of goggles with a heads-up-display to control he balls he tasked them with scouting the alley for clues while he pulled on the rest of his gear. A pair of greaves covered his legs from ankle to knee; half-spherical indents at the knee and ankle designed to cup wonderballs and give him an approximation of flight. Gauntlets with the same indents at the elbow were designed to hold wonderballs that would project force fields for defense while Bobby held another pair of balls in his hands for stability.

The Bat-mobile came to a screeching halt, the canopy top sliding forward to allow Batman and Bat-Girl to climb out, and Spoiler showed up on the chopped motorcycle that was her form of transportation. "I told you not to come," Batman growled at both the teenagers.

"He's my best friend," Bobby answered both for himself and for Stephanie Brown, Spoiler, who stood beside him in a show of solidarity. Before dawning her cape and cowl Stephanie had been Bobby's girlfriend, but a drive to ruin, or spoil, her father's criminal career had been followed by a desire to continue her vigilante ways and they'd stopped seeing each other about a year before Bobby had moved to New York.

Bat-Girl placed her hand on her mentor's arm, telling him, "We can cover more ground this way, and they've already started gathering evidence."

The weird lenses of Batman's cowl narrowed to thin lines as he conceded, "Fine, but we do things my way. What do you have?"

Bobby pulled out a tablet and showed the Caped Crusader and his less-scarier partner the crime scene, walking them through the ambush. The two thugs that had been menacing Harley Quinn were still in the alley, dead, with bullets in their heads, bloody shoe prints and drag marks showing where the Joker and Quinn had pulled Robin to the street where they'd gotten into a car – a utility van by the width and tread of the tires that had peeled out before zooming away. Knowing the type of vehicle they were looking for Bobby tapped into traffic cameras, looking for similar vehicles operating in the area around the time of the abduction.

"That one," Batman said, identifying one van with a 'Jumbo Jack' logo on the sides. On his goggles Bobby ran a search until he found Jumbo Jack, a defunct toy company that was owned by Jack White, one of the Joker's favorite aliases. "Bat-Girl and I will check the toy factory, Spoiler and Delphi, I want you to go to the Bat-cave and run cyber-ops."

"Really?" Spoiler gasped, "The cave?" Another narrow-eyed look had her backpedaling, "Sure thing, Batman; cyber-ops."

Bobby accused, "You're cutting us out of this op."

"My way," the Dark Knight repeated. "Bat-Girl, take the car and take these two to the cave."

"R-right," she responded, leading the way back to the bat-mobile, "Come on, guys."

Fuming at the 'letter of the law' approach Bobby followed Stephanie to the car and climbed in next to Bat-Girl, the only member of the Bat-family whose identity he hadn't figured out. The red-head's hands hesitated on some of the controls, leading the young man to believe that she'd never actually driven the bat-mobile before, but soon they were being shoved against their seats as the jet thruster in back launched them down the street. Almost all of her focus was spent on keeping the car on the road, but she did manage to say, "He likes you, you know. Both of you."

"Any idea why?" Bobby wondered.

"You're both good friends, for Robin; you keep him from following the grim and narrow paths that Batman and Nightwing have been following," she answered, eyes still on the road. "You keep Robin from becoming isolated."

"How is the former Boy Wonder?" Bobby asked. "Last I heard he'd moved out to Bludhaven."

"Yea, he decided that Gotham City was a little too crowded," she answered, adding, "We don't talk much."

Bobby put a couple of things together and frowned at the heroine, wondering how to bring his observations up. They pulled into the cave and the young man got caught up with the sheer amount of stuff that the Caped Crusader and various Robins had collected over the years. Giant pennies, robotic T-Rex, weapons confiscated from the rogues gallery, and an armory for all the bat-gadgets.

"Holy collector's fetish, Bat-Girl," Bobby commented as they climbed out of the car, "I never took the BM for a packrat. Seriously, we should feature this guy on 'Hoarders'."

Bat-Girl giggled at that as she showed the younger teenagers to the massive bank of monitors that was the computer terminal. On the way up Bobby spotted a familiar piece of technology – a bat-themed STRIPE EEV armor all but cosmetically identical to the Special Tactics Robotic Integrated Power Enhancer/Emergency Evacuation Vehicle that Pat Dugan had given Bobby to operate while the man was on maternity leave with his wife.

The pair of teens took seats at the massive terminal, and Bobby began to familiarize himself with the interface before nodding to Bat-Girl, "It runs off the Oracle System, so I've got this – go back up the boss in the field."

With a nod the woman turned and practically skipped to the car, leaving Bobby to wonder just how naive the college girl was. She seemed to have deluded herself into thinking that one day she and Bruce Wayne would ride off into the sunset, either unaware or refusing to recognize that Batman's war on crime would never be over – an immortal obsession that would consume him until he was too old and too bitter to carry on. Whoever Bat-Girl was she hadn't figured that out, and would likely be heartbroken when finally confronted by the truth.

Having become familiar with the Oracle OS from his weekends at Titan's Tower Bobby was able to transfer the feed from the wonder balls to the bat-cave monitors, allowing Stephanie to have control over some of them to track the field team. Meanwhile the young man used the computer to hack into the Gotham GWP (gas, water and power), looking for places that were labeled 'abandoned' but were drawing powers. He found a few places, but most had already been logged by Batman – he'd already searched those locations for criminal hideouts in his drive for justice. No, Bobby needed a different approach, so he started looking into the other utilities.

"When did Arkham close?" Bobby wondered.

"Last spring," Stephanie said as she turned to look at his findings. "They moved all the inmates to a more secure facility – my classmates have been daring each other to go inside it all year. Why?"

"Because, it isn't drawing power but there's water pressure," Bobby answered, switching the comm. to contact Batman. "I've got a lead, other than Jumbo Jacks."

There was no reply at first, but Bobby could hear the sounds of fighting – fists to fleshy bits and stuff breaking sounds – before the Dark Knight responded, "Go ahead."

"Arkham Asylum is drawing water, and gas, but the power to it has been cut, so the pumps shouldn't be working," Bobby explained.

"Bat-Girl?" the detective inquired.

"On her way," the teenager answered, checking the tracker in the car, "ETA 2 minutes, if she doesn't wrap the thing around a telephone pole."

"Hey," Bat-Girl's voice objected, "I heard that."

Stephanie laughed as the comm. line closed, saying, "I've missed you, Bobby. Robin's missed you too."

"How are things between you and Al?" Bobby asked, using the same alias that Tim had given the Titans.

With a sigh she admitted, "Not so good – we haven't had much time to be together, given mid-terms and the Titans." She hugged her knees to her chest and admitted, "I don't like that we only see each other in costume, either."

The teen boy tentatively asked, "Have you considered putting the cloak away? I know that you love Robin, but sometimes a guy needs someone outside the whole heroic-identity to give him perspective."

"Is that why you're dating 'Blonde'?" she asked, referencing the photos of himself and Cassandra on their date.

As Wonder Boy Bobby and his parents had made a deal with all the media outlets – he would not try to flee the cameras so long as the media did not publish the pictures or name of his girlfriend. Mary Bromfield, the adopted daughter of Theo and Nora Bromfield, had been his girlfriend at the time, and the media outlets, even the sleazy ones, had obliged by either concealing her face or using photos where her face was already hidden from the lens, and they hadn't printed her name, either. When Bobby had decided to date Cassie he'd called up media outlets and told them where he was going, reminding them of the deal, and they had kept up their side – in print and video her face was blurred out, and she was referred to as 'Blonde', due to her wavy blonde hair.

He shrugged, smiling.

Reluctantly the girl asked, "Where did you two meet?"

"On Themyscira – her mom was one of the professional women that Queen Hippolyta invited to the island over the summer, and the only mother in the group," he answered. "It was right after I'd been . . . cured, and she was the first person my age who didn't hate men I'd been around for six months."

"I bet she loved that," Stephanie insinuated.

He rolled his eyes, tasking the wonderballs to fly to the old asylum. "I loved it," he countered. "I could be a teenager with her; not the unwanted male or the link to a lost bloodline. Having her around made me feel . . . normal again, and I loved that feeling. So when I ran into her again it just felt right to ask her out."

"Are you going to see each other again?" Stephanie asked, not sounding jealous, more supportive.

"We plan too, but like you and Al, we've got school to balance," he answered.

Unencumbered the balls could fly about 50 miles an hour, and as they didn't have to follow the road the devices reached the asylum before the bats. The place already had an abandoned look to it, and someone – probably kids on a dare – had taken to breaking windows with rocks. Bringing up a map of the interior Bobby programmed the balls to begin searching the maze of halls and rooms to find out of the Joker was inside. He had almost instant confirmation when one of them found a group of hobos who had died with rictus grins on their faces – death by Joker gas.

Stephanie, monitoring half the spheres, found five generators that were running to give the area around the stadium theater power. By following the maze of cables attached they found what looked to be studio sets built in the high-security dining room – a 70's living room and kitchen, and something that looked like a 1910's mad scientist's laboratory. Tim was strapped to an operating table that was surrounded by medical equipment and set dressing, just coming back to consciousness.

"Wakie wakie, Bird Boy," the Joker leered, "It's time for you to start your supporting role in the little film I'm putting together for your provider." He gestured to Harley, who was working a studio camera. "Of course, it's just Harley here, none of my goons know about our little love-nest here. So, none of them can tell the Batman where to find you."

Tim struggled against the Kevlar straps that were holding him down, checking his wrists for the knives he hid on his costume.

"Looking for these?" the clown asked, holding up Robin's belt and the knives normally hidden in the gloves. "I'm on to all your little tricks, Boy Blunder, and before I'm through with you you'll be screaming all your little secrets. So, why don't we get started? Lights, camera, ACTION!"

The Joker started playing out his own little drama in silence – there was no one to run an audio rig given that Quinn was working the camera. From a charcoal grill lit from within by a flashlight the insane criminal pulled out a pair of jumper cables and cackled as he approached the surgical table. He attached them to Tim and then went to a lever, the light of deranged glee in his eyes.

"No," both Bobby and Stephanie said as the Joker threw the switch and Robin screamed as electricity coursed through his body. "NO" Stephanie screamed again as she watched her boyfriend thrash against his restraints, but Bobby's fingers were in motion, directing one of the wonderballs back to the generators, finding the right one, and then ramming it into the exhaust. The generator sputtered and died as the carbon dioxide backed up into the cylinder, choking the combustion process.

"What?" the Joker demanded as Robin relaxed. The man threw the switch a couple of times before demanding, "HARLEY, what happened?"

Cowering, Harley Quinn answered, "I don't know, Mr. J."

"Performance issues?" Robin offered with a cough, "It happens to guys your age."

"Oh, hardy-har-har," the Joker mocked before turning back to his girlfriend. "Go check the generators!"

Meanwhile Batman and Bat-Girl were inside the building, making their way stealthily towards the Joker's studio set up. They used smart-phones to track the wonderball feeds and split up – Bat-Girl towards Harley Quinn and Batman going after the Joker. Before engaging Batman ordered, "Send the EEV for Robin."

Seeing his opportunity Bobby told his ex-girlfriend, "Take over here," and ran over to the suit of powered armor. The plates opened so that Bobby could pretty much step inside, and he keyed them to close before activating the launch sequence. At the moment the armor was on auto pilot as it blasted out of the cave and then changed course, tracking a signal set up by Batman. Unfortunately the armor wasn't subtle, having only enough artificial intelligence to plot a course towards the beacon that wouldn't destroy it. Inside, Bobby was bounced back and forth as the armor maneuvered tight corridors and barreled into the Joker's studio.

Once it landed the armor unlocked, sensing a driver, and Bobby could run to Tim's side while Batman and the Joker fought. "Hang in there, Robin," the young man told his friend. "You've got a concussion at the very least, so the priority is to get you out of here."

"Bobby?" Tim wondered as he looked up at the Bat-bot.

"The one and only," Bobby goofed as he opened the armor and stepped out to work on the restraints. Tim was frighteningly uncoordinated, a combination of the blow to the head he'd taken earlier and the electrocution he'd suffered just minutes before. In short order the former Wonder Boy had the Boy Wonder free, and was helping his friend into the armor.

"How are you going to get out?" Tim asked as Bobby keyed the recovery command.

"I'll manage," he answered, stepping back so the armor could launch.

***WB 2/11: Joker***

Years of fighting the Batman and his juniors had taught the man who was called Joker the necessity of agility, a certain amount of martial skill, and the necessity of improvisation. He was able to maneuver the caped kill-joy into an impromptu trap, dropping about 100 pounds of junk left over when the asylum was moved onto his eternal dance partner. The Joker knew that it had only stunned his playmate, and that the man would be digging himself out shortly, so it was time to make an exit. Turning towards the laboratory set up he spotted the media darling, heavy on the sarcasm, known as Wonder Boy helping Robin into an oversized Bat-suit of armor.

Furious, Joker grabbed a breathing apparatus he'd charged with Joker gas and snuck up on the two teens. If he couldn't have the Boy Blunder then he'd have Blunder Boy instead, dead or alive . . . preferably dead. Coming up behind the armor Joker waited for it to launch before leaping forward, pressing the device into the teenager's face and triggering a burst while pressing on a pressure point that caused the boy to gasp, taking a lungful of gas.

The boy pulled away, too late, and started laughing as he sagged to his knees, the neurotoxin causing convulsions of the abdominal muscles – like the hiccups, but so much funnier. It wasn't as good as turning the ol'-bats protégé into Joker Junior, but the man laughed as he considered the media backlash of Wonder Boy dying under Batman's watch. Finally, they would see that their 'Caped Crusader' was nothing but a freak, just like Joker and the other freaks who called Gotham home. They would hunt down the Batman, drive him from his places of safety, and then the Joker would get a laugh out of him!

Cackling madly, Joker turned away only to feel a hand close around his ankle. He looked down to see, impossible as it was, the boy crawling to his knees, the blue star on his forehead turning purple and a crazed light entering the boy's purple eyes. "Where do you think you're going, Jackie?" the boy asked between fits of laughter that didn't seem to incapacitate him.

"What did you call me?" the Joker demanded, trying to fight the teen off as he climbed to his feet using fists full of the Joker's best suit.

"Why so serious, Jackie, huh?" the teen asked, on his feet now, before head butting the Clown-Prince. Roaring, the boy demanded, "Why don't you ever smile, Jackie? Huh?" The boy backhanded the man's bleached face hard enough to stagger the man before getting a firm grip and lifting the Joker off his feet, shaking the man. "You don't like the roof I put over your head, the food I put on the table, THE CLOTHES I PUT ON YOUR BACK!"

The boy threw the Joker to the ground with an inhuman amount of strength and then leapt onto the man, his feet striking the ground between the Joker's legs and his knees pinning the Joker's arm to the ground. It was like the kid weighted three times what he should and the Joker couldn't break free no matter how he struggled. Joker noticed that they'd landed in the livingroom set, between the couch, radio and window, and a frightening sense of déjà vu fell over him as he looked up into those mad, purple eyes.

A scalpel in hand the boy hissed, "Let's put a smile on your face!"

"No, no, NO!" Joker screamed. He was a boy again, his stepfather looking over him with a knife in hand, saying those words as the knife descended, threatening to cut away the flesh around the boy-Joker's mouth.

Just as suddenly as the vision had appeared it vanished, the star on the boy's head going green, his eyes going to blue-flecked brown, and the teen leaned over to vomit next to the Joker's head. As the boy tottered sideways the Joker scrambled the other way, desperate to escape the memory that had been dredged up in that moment, only to find himself at the feet of the Dark Knight. Spinning to face the cloaked figure the Joker begged, "Take me back to the asylum, to jail, anywhere away from that kid!"

***WB 2/11: Batman***

Through the camera in the recovery room of Gotham General Hospital Batman watched as Robert Trevor assured his parents, "I'm fine, really," and according to the teen's blood work he was telling the truth. Robert had taken a lethal dose of Joker gas and recovered without the use of an antidote – somehow his body had rejected the gas, forcing him to sweat it out. As a side effect the boy had vomited and passed out.

What really interested the Dark Knight was Robert's actions before his body had purged the chemicals. His words, 'why so serious' and 'let's put a smile on your face', had triggered a fear response so extreme that the clown had gone to the new asylum willingly, happily, anything to be away from the teenager. Batman had only seen such extreme reactions from Crane's fear gas, but as far as he could tell none had been present in the asylum.

"Bruce?" a woman's voice called from the stairs and Wonder Woman stepped into the cave wearing an evening gown. "You wanted to see me?"

He frowned and asked, "Why are you wearing that?"

"Guile," she replied, leaning over his shoulder to she could see the screen from his perspective. "People believe that I'm here for a private dinner. So, what happened to Bobby?"

"He took a dose of Joker gas, went crazy, and purged the neurotoxin on his own," the man said, trying to ignore the smell of the custom perfume the woman was wearing – a combination of floral and spice from her island home. "This is the second power he's developed in the past week. I was hoping you'd be able to explain that – one mentor to another."

Straightening up the woman considered before admitting, "Both powers are based on two of the gods who attended his . . . Ceremony of Brotherhood, I suppose we could call it: Apollo and Dionysus."

"Gods of poetry and insanity," Batman noted, considering that as well. "Poetry is an inherently lingual medium. But this: immunity to mind-altering drugs?"

"Dionysus has always been strange," she answered with a shrug. "For his deed I had to be gassed with that Jonathan Crane character's gas while the god made notes of my reaction." She shivered at the memory.

"I remember finding you," Batman remarked, a shiver running down his spine too, finally understanding Diana's words 'had to do it'. "Will he develop any other powers?"

Diana shook her head, admitting, "Participants in the Ceremony of Sisterhood develop immortality, superior strength and near invulnerability immediately – they are placed into seclusion until they have mastered their new abilities where they are to practice the arts to see if they have developed any other talents based on the goddesses. Robert showed none of these, though now that I think about it he picked up Greek much faster after the ceremony – he was fluent during the shopping expeditions he took with Cassandra."

"Flight, super-strength, invulnerability?" he asked, almost accused.

"No," she answered quickly. Too quickly? With a sigh Diana admitted, "Any such powers would be contained within the bracer Hephaestus created for Bobby – I thought the bracer had absorbed all of Bobby's special gifts, but it seemed that a few leaked through."

"A new bracer?" Batman wondered darkly.

"Yes, but it is Bobby's choice whether he puts it on or not, and so far he has chosen 'not'," she stressed, her eyes narrowed with focus to make Batman know that no one was to force her cousin to take up the mantle.

Relenting on a point wasn't something that Batman was used to, but something he often did in his relationship with the Princess of Themyscira. He nodded, saying, "Give me a minute to change and we'll have that dinner."

She smiled before turning and sauntered up the stairs with a sway that would make any male respond, him included. When the secret door closed Batman called out, "BRO-Mk I, online."

"Online, awaiting command," the computer responded, the logo of an eye appearing on one of the monitors.

"Upgrade Robert Trevor-Barnes to a Category III meta-human and begin monitoring," the World's Greatest Detective ordered.

In response the computer program, the operating system of a series of orbital satellites, announced, "Subject: Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes, Status: Category III meta-human, active monitoring enable. Brother Eye is watching."

End Chapter Eleven: Fate

End Note: Fans of the television movie "Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker" will recognize some of the scenes were pulled from that movie. Tim Drake is one of my favorite characters, and I knew when I first used him in my story that I wanted to change his fate. In the movie Tim spent three weeks in the hands of the Clown-Prince of Crime, during which time the Joker injected the young hero with some system that rewrote Tim's DNA, allowing for a Jeckel/Hyde transformation. Meanwhile Batman rebuffed all the young heroes he'd mentored before, refusing to let anything like what happened to Tim happen again. This isolated the Dark Knight and contributed greatly to the situation that Terry McGinnis found him in at the start of the Batman Beyond cartoon series.

What this means for the future is up in the air – Tim continues as Robin, eventually taking over Wayne Industries when Bruce steps down while Dick Grayson dons the cape and cowl? Who knows, I'm not there with the story yet.


	12. Beast

NOTE: This is a work of fiction and most, if not all, of the characters here-in are the intellectual property of DC Comics – they are used without permission but also without the intent of making a profit. Some story points in this chapter might conflict with chapter 5 as a rewrite is pending.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Powerless  
Chapter 12: Beast

The St. Elias School for Girls was considered a first-rate, dormitory-style school for young ladies, the alumni having gone on to graduate college, becoming business women, Senators and Congresswomen, and even a US presidential hopeful. In the pamphlets they sent to the parents of perspective students it was noted that the girls could learn without the distractions that the opposite sex exemplified. While that looked good on paper from a psychological point of view the girls needed the occasional interaction with boys, so the school scheduled social events every season.

At the end of the first trimester of study, just before the start of the winter holidays, was the much anticipated Fall Social. For some of the girls it would be the first time they'd seen a boy since the start of the school year, and estrogen was running high. Volunteers from the local high schools were put through a thorough background check before being sent invitations with directions on where to meet the bus. Couples were paired up by age, height and psychological measurements, but the girls could ask that a specific boy be invited so long as they passed mid-terms and made the request in advance.

Having passed her mid-term retests Cassandra 'Cassie' Sandsmark had earned the right to invite her date, and she'd chosen her boyfriend: Bobby Trevor-Barnes.

Bobby's full name was Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes, better known to the world as Wonder Boy despite the fact that he'd changed his moniker to Delphi and was secretly serving as STRIPE. She'd first heard of him during the previous year when he'd burst onto the teen-scene helping Wonder Woman stop a tweaking bank robber who'd taken a baby hostage when he'd been cornered. Like all the girls at the school she'd followed Bobby's story, considering going brunette when she'd found out that his girlfriend and his mom had dark hair, and imagined dating 'The Promise of Tomorrow', as the media liked to call him. And like the other girls Cassie had cried when she'd learned that 'The Promise of Tomorrow' was laying broken in a hospital bed just a couple months after his debut.

They had met when Cassie's mom, Socio-Anthropologist Helena Sandsmark, had been invited to summer on Themyscira where Bobby had been recuperating. Seeing him walk down the beach towards the boat that had just farrier her and her mom across the Aegean Sea had turned what looked to be the worst summer of her young life into the best. For two months she'd run wooded trails, rode horseback on the beach, and visited villages along the Aegean with the boy of her dreams at her side. However, there had always been the looming date – the end of summer when Cassie would return to a girl's school and Bobby would go back to his amazing life.

When she'd seen what she thought were three magical objects in a collection her mother was curating – the Gloves of Atlas, the Nemean Belt of Hercules, and the Sandals of Hermes – a plan had leapt into her mind: become a super-heroine!

Super-strength, invulnerability and flight; those were the powers she was supposed to gain from the items, but after her first outing as a heroine, a team-up with Bobby!, she'd learned that the powers belonged to her, not the objects. The next day Cassie had gone toe-to-toe with Mary Marvel, fighting a female powerhouse to a standstill while they had been under a wrath curse. And that night, Cassie still felt the need to pinch herself at the memory, they had gone on a date in the city – a simple dinner and movie – and it had been awesome!

The best part had been the kisses – one just before they'd been teleported back to Titan's Tower that the media had reported to death, and another outside her room at the tower. Both had been magical, leaving her with the sensation that she'd been walking on air.

Her bubble had been burst when she'd failed two of her mid-term tests and been told that if she didn't pass the retest then Cassie would not be allowed to attend the Fall Social, let alone invite anyone. Cassie had already invited Bobby in person, he knew the date and even called to confirm it, so if she failed then Cassie would have to call her boyfriend and cancel. So she'd studied her ass off over the three-day weekend and passed the re-tests with an 80% and an 82%, but Cassie had learned her lesson: if she wanted to stay a member of the Teen Titans, if she wanted to continue dating Bobby, then she had to take her classes seriously.

The day of the dance Cassie sat in an upstairs classroom that overlooked the front drive, waiting for the first busload of boys to arrive. All the seniors were downstairs, lined up to meet their dates, who would be arriving first. In half an hour's time the dates for the Juniors would arrive and a half hour after that Bobby and the dates for the other Sophomores would arrive, followed by the Freshman's dates.

"I see the bus!" Cassie's best friend, Cissie King-Jones, announced. An Olympic archer, Cissie had the best eyes in the school, and sure enough the bus came out of the cover of the woods and slowed as it approached the gate.

"What's that?" Traya Sutton, a 10 year-old genius that Cassie counted as a friend asked. What she'd seen was a beast of a motorcycle that had come out of the woods behind the bus.

Broad tires front and back gripped the road, supporting a low-slung body on which the driver was stretched out. It was covered in white panels, with blue and red accents, including blue tire caps with white stars that didn't seem to spin with the wheels. The rider was wearing white leathers with red accents and a blue helmet with a white star on the back. Seeing the theme of the bike and the rider Cassie's heart started beating at a frenzied pace as the bike was parked in a visitor lot normally reserved for parents, and the rider sat up to remove his helmet.

Bobby's hair color was brown, but it had been bleached a dark blond by the Aegean sun and had not darkened much since returning to New York State. Dismounting, he unhooked a garment bag and walked up to the teachers who were supervising introductions. Cassie frowned down at the scene, wishing she could hear what they were saying, when she could suddenly hear what was happening 50 yards away as if she were standing next to them.

"Can I help you?" Miss Vought asked, sounding disdainful that a boy disrupt the process.

"Please," Bobby sighed in relief as he pulled out his invite, saying, "The packet says that Seniors were supposed to arrive at this time, but the invite says not to catch the bus for another half hour.

"Oh, I see," the teacher intoned rudely, "I see your mistake: this invitation is from a Sophomore – Sophomore dates are not supposed to arrive for another hour."

Dr. Marcy Money, the school psychologist, apologized, "I am sorry, the packets really should be reworded. You can wait by your, ah, cycle until the other Sophomore dates arrive."

"I will, thank you both," Bobby said, shaking hands with both women before turning back to his bike.

Cassie relaxed and her hearing went back to normal so that she could hear another of her friend's saying, "Cassie, are you okay?"

Anita Fite was half-Black and half-Créole from Louisiana, and an almost stereotypical accent. She was also the only one in school who practiced Voodoo as her religious preference. All of that , combined with the fact that she was a new student and refused to talk about what her dad did for a living, had made it difficult for Anita to make friends. For some reason, though, the girl had decided to adopt Cassie and Cissie as her friends, sitting with the blondes at lunch and joining them for activities. Cassie and Cissie had decided to accept the girl with her oddities because they counted themselves as odd, and Traya accepted everyone at face value.

Below, Bobby stopped half way to his bike and reached for his ear. He was then sprinting, unzipping his riding jacket the teen reached inside to produce the decorative armband that twisted itself into a circlet that he placed on his brow. Triggering some hidden command caused panels on the bike to slide away, admitting seven wonderballs. It was suddenly too loud in the room, and crowded as every girl fought for a vantage point, that Cassie couldn't repeat her trick with her hearing, so all she could tell was what everyone else was seeing, too.

Six of the wonderballs arrayed themselves around him, displaying information that looked graphical, the seventh projecting a keyboard on which he was typing information.

"Oh. My. God," one of the other girls gasped in recognition, "That's, that's . . . Bobby Barnes! That's Wonder Boy!"

All the girls started twittering all the absurd things that they had ever heard about Bobby: that he was moving to Greece to take over that country, that he and Princess Diana were engaged, that the Blonde he'd been seen with was actually Queen Hippolyta, that he was secretly married to the queen. Cassie's friend's weren't gossiping – Cissie and Anita were staring at her with their mouths open while Traya looked between the pair like they had gone crazy. Only Cissie and Traya had believed her when Cassie had told them she'd met Bobby on her summer holiday, but Cassie had told no one that they were dating.

Finally Cissie accused, "Cassie, did you . . . did you invite Bobby Barnes to the Fall Social?"

Hands on her hips little Traya demanded, "Why wouldn't she invite Bobby? He's her boyfriend! Duh!" The 10 year-old even put in a roll of her eyes to express just how stupid her older friends were being.

Cassie shrugged, telling them, "I told you we summered on Themyscira, but, yea, we're dating now."

"Yea, but," Cissie stammered, searching for words.

"Ah thought you was in trouble that weekend," Anita replied, "You're sayin' your mom let you go on a date with Bobby Trevor?"

"Well, she didn't know about the date, but, yea." She'd been suspended the weekend of their first date, and by rights should have been grounded by her mom. Bobby had suggested to Cassie that letting her mom know about the superpowers would be the right thing to do, and he'd been right: not only had Cassie gotten out of trouble, but she'd been allowed to spend the weekend at Titan's Tower!

Below the six balls had changed configuration and were now projecting a wireframe of a building. One of the other girls called commented, "It looks like he's directing a building evacuation, like he did with the Titans that first time."

It did look that way as rooms changed color to highlight which had already been searched or were too dangerous to enter. From the speed the rooms were changing color it seemed that Jesse Quick was part of the team.

One of the students found the remote and turned on the TV in the corner, which could only be tuned to the news channels, which was perfect in that moment because the girls actually wanted to watch the news report! The story was titled 'New Titans respond to building fire'. Jesse, Arsenal, Nightwing, the new guy, Cyborg, and Hourman from the Justice League, were evacuating a tenement fire in NYC at record pace. On the street the fire chief was using another wireframe model too keep track of the rescue effort and paramedics were taking care of those that were found.

Downstairs, the dates for the Junior classwomen showed up, but between introductions there was a lot of staring.

The building was cleared out and Bobby closed down his projection, but he started typing and was only just finishing up when it was time for the 10th graders to line up and meet their dates.

***WB 2/12: Bobby***

The St. Elias School for Girls was a gorgeous set of buildings on the edge of a deep forest with a large gate at the front of the property breaking a foreboding wall that ran nearly half a mile along the road. Unfortunately for their security the wall wasn't complete as it only extended about 50 yards into the woods with tall trees stretching over either side, close enough for a slight person to leap across without touching. Instead of continuing the fence there were cameras about every 10 yards, meaning that the trees were probably the best way to sneak in or out. In all, though, it was a good school with an excellent reputation for turning out highly educated young women who went on to dominate their fields.

Bobby's first encounter with the school had actually been an alumni, Bette Kane, an Olympian gold medalist in Tennis who had been trying to entice Mary Bromfield to attend the school. He still had the tennis ball that Bette had signed for him that meeting and intended to send her something now that he was famous.

Social events at the school were more than just dances – the girls showed their dates around the grounds in carefully chaperoned groups, the idea being that the boys might someday be fathers to young women and 'wouldn't this be a wonderful place to send them'! Lunch was served, and the girls were required to keep conversations going throughout the meal, working from a list if they couldn't come up with another topic. Conversation wasn't a problem at the table that Bobby and Cassie sat at as the pair of them were pestered with questions from all sides. He met Cissie King-Jones, Anita Fite and Traya Sutton, and their dates – little Traya being partnered with the shortest guy of the bunch.

Growing tired of all the questions about his dating history he turned to Anita and asked, "Is your father Donald Fite?"

Surprised, Anita answered, "Yes, my papi's name is Donald". The dark skinned girl then blushed, admitting, "He brought me a signed photo of you for mah last birthday."

At the surprised looks of his female table-mates Bobby answered, "Agent Fite was a member of the 'Three-Letter-Posse', though his agency had a four letter acronym." He shrugged at the joke.

Traya giggled, commenting, "Daddy says you're good at making connections about people."

Frowning in consideration the teenager repeated, "Sutton, Sutton? Kathy Sutton? Red Tornado's wife. You're the little girl they adopted from Bialya! Red told me you were going to a special school, but I didn't know it was this school."

Cassie seemed to like this game, and asked, "Do you know anything about Cissie?"

The other blonde's eyes got as big as saucers, telling the young man that Cissie's story wasn't something that she wanted made public. "Only that there are about three dozen amazons wishing their goddesses would whisk you to Themyscira after they watched the Olympic games," he said instead.

Cissie King-Jones, daughter of Bonnie King and Bernell Jones – in her late teens Bonnie had styled herself as Miss Arrowette and tried to pass herself off as a female sidekick to the Green Arrow, and ended up getting people hurt. Like an obsessive pageant-mom Bonnie had driven her daughter from early age to learn the skills a good heroine should know. Archer, Judo, and Gymnastics were at the top of the list, and then Bonnie had given her daughter a bow, a costume, and a target, all in an attempt to do what the mother could not: impress Green Arrow.

Bonnie King-Jones and her husband had been brought up on child endangerment charges, and Cissie had been placed in the custody of the school.

Everyone laughed at Bobby's command, and Cissie blushed as she laughed along with them.

"Dude, what's up with that cycle of yours, man," Anita's date, Todd Marko, begged, "I've never seen anything like it!"

"It's a Wayne Industries design, intended for military use, but the military passed on it, so Mr. Wayne offered them to the Justice League. The model I have is the 'police' version – no lethal weapons or stealth features," he answered. "It actually isn't a motorcycle, in the classic sense – it had four wheels, set in pairs front and back, with their own individual suspension, and four motors, one in each tire. Where the motor on a normal motorcycle would be there's an electrical generator capable of powering a high-tech hospital for a couple of days if needed."

Of course, all the guys at all the surrounding tables wanted to know more, and lunch ended with questions about the Quad-Cycle. When lunch was over the pairs participated in sports that the girls had signed up for weeks in advance. Cassie had chosen Tennis, so they changed and met on the court where they faced off against a senior and her date – both of whom looked like they'd been playing Tennis from the age of 6.

Pulling his girlfriend aside he told her, "Okay, Cassie, I'm not going to judge you if you use your powers, I know it will be difficult because I went through the same thing last year. Instead, I want you to focus on limiting the use of your powers as much as you can."

She nodded, looking relieved about the 'no judgment' part, as she took up a racket and found her place on the court. They ended up playing 3 games: one as a par, another switching partners, and a third as boys vs. girls. Bobby pushed himself hard on all three games, and he pressed Cassie on the second and third games to be sure she got a good workout on her self-control. He could tell when she used her powers, but the average person would have said that she was simply very athletic.

At the end of the game he gave her a hug and encouraged, "Good job, beautiful; that was great."

Cassie blushed as they separated to shower and change into evening wear – the girls back to their dorms and the boys to the locker room. The open shower setup was familiar, as was the fact that they were in a girl's locker room because, as the school photographer, he took photos before, during half-time, and after away games, and at some of the schools there were only two locker rooms. Some of the other guys, though, were fascinated with the taboo of being in a place that, according to them, no man had gone before!

For Bobby the only unfamiliar part was putting on a three-piece suit in a locker room.

***WB 2/12: Cassie***

The dress was a gift from Princess Diana of Themyscira, a silk gown of brilliant red complete with gold jewelry and a simple note: 'Take his break away'.

Cassie had intended to use her belt of disguise to create a dress, but with the princess' encouragement the girl couldn't not wear the dress! Diana also had a super-heroine's sense in undergarments as the accompanying bra didn't provide any support so much as it kept the girl's c-cup breasts from swaying. Cissie and Cassie helped each other dress, Cissie in a much simpler blue gown that brought out the girl's eyes before going to stand in front of their mirror.

"Well, at least we know whose going to be crowned King and Queen of the Ball," Cissie lamented, "But then, you two look great together in just about anything."

Biting her lower lip Cassie considered, "You know, we should get Traya voted as Queen."

At first Cissie was shocked by the idea because the title of Queen gave the winner a big boost in social standing over the next trimester. Winning would mean nothing to Traya as the girls wouldn't use the social score for anything, but would absolutely love wearing the crown for a couple months. It would also be a way to snub all the girls who thought that dominating the social scene was the whole purpose of High School – girls that neither Cassie or Cissie liked.

"Let's do it!" Cissie cheered, and the two shared a hug before heading out.

Bobby's response to the dress was everything that Cassie could have hoped for – he'd schooled himself to look only at people's faces, a necessity when you spent most of a year on an island where most of the women look like fitness models and your mentor looks like an underwear model. This time, though, the boy couldn't help but rake his eyes over the way the dress clung and flowed, taking in everything from her face to her feet. All the guys took a look, but their eyes lingered on a particular part of her while Bobby's snapped back to her face with an embarrassed blush coloring his cheeks.

"Wow," was his first response, simple and exactly what she'd been hoping for.

"Thanks," she told her boyfriend, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Socials were the only time that the girls were allowed to wear heals, and Cassie's put her eye-to-eye with her boyfriend despite his recent growth spurt. Cheating slightly, she was using her flight powers to keep most of her weight off her toes without making it seem she was weightless.

She took in the tailored suit he was wearing, complete with a red vest and bow-tie made of the same red silk as her dress. He was the one who looked fabulous, and all the girls in the hall knew it – the looks of desire and jealousy were almost frightening! So, instead of focusing on them Cassie looped her right arm around his left and started plotting with the girls she was on good terms with. In order to get Traya voted as Queen the girls would have to convince their dates to vote for her. Normally the boys voted for the girl they wished that they were on a date with.

The girls would do the same, voting for the guy that they wished that they were on a date with, and from the looks he was getting Bobby was a shoe-in for King. As that was exactly what Cassie wanted the problem was in convincing the guys to vote for Traya, which was looking to be a problem as all the guys were still ogling her – it was actually a little creepy. "Dude, if you stare any harder at my girlfriend's tits your date is going to kick your ass for me," Bobby told one of the boys who was giving Cassie a creepy look.

Couples were introduced with the Freshmen going first and the seniors going last, which meant that Cassie and Bobby were somewhere in the middle and were required to applaud politely for all the other couples before a multi-course dinner was served. Again, the girls had been provided with lists of topics for polite conversation, mostly probing questions like 'Where do you see yourself in 10 years', or 'Do you see yourself as more of a Paralegal or Medical Administration?' Of course, all the girls at her table wanted the details of how she and Bobby had met, and all the boys wanted to know was how fast the quad-cycle went – the answer to which was, "The test drivers refused to push it past 200mph, but Wildcat got his up to 340 before losing control and driving it off the side of a bridge. Fortunately, Captain Marvel was there to catch him, or that would be one flat cat."

Finally the time came, the food was taken away, the lights were lowered and the music began; Bobby led her onto the dance floor and actually led with real dance steps instead of a simple two-step, something that not all boys could actually do. They glided across the floor, showing up some of the Seniors who were also cutting a rug, and by the end of two songs Cassie was a little dizzy and did not object when her boyfriend led her to a table where Cissie, Anita and Traya were waiting. When they got there, though, she felt Bobby tug on her arm and turned to see one of the seniors dragging him back to the floor!

***WB 2/12: Bobby***

The girl dragged Bobby onto the dance floor, spun him around and wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him while trying to lead. "Hey there, handsome," the senior tried to flirt, "Why don't you leave that sophomore and step up to a real woman."

He laughed and pointed out, "Actually, I find your pushy attitude a major turn off. You may be older, but you're just a girl pretending to be a grown up."

"Oh, come on," the girl whispered in his ear, "I can do things to you that blonde has never dreamed of."

"And we're done," Bobby said as he stepped away, breaking out of the girl's grip and waving over a teacher. It was the same woman he'd had the misfortune of speaking to that morning; Miss Vought, according to her nametag. He stepped up to the woman and said, "In less than five minutes I've been physically assaulted, had my intelligence insulted, and been offered sexual favors. Either you will keep her away from me or I will walk out, and my first stop will be the publicist for damage control."

Turning away he noticed Traya's ashen face and the shocked looks of the others at the table. He moved that way and was approached by one of the other boys who said something completely nonsensical: "Dude, man, a pterodactyl stole your motorcycle!"

Bobby blinked at the young man a couple of times, looking for signs of drug use or liar tells. "Oh, gods, you're telling the truth," the teen moaned as he pushed through the press towards an exit. It let out onto the parking lot and, sure enough, his quad-cycle was missing, all his gear with it.

Cassie, her friends and their dates followed, with Dr. Money bringing up the rear with a, "What are you doing out here," followed by, "Didn't you park your bike here?"

"Yes," Bobby sighed, "And we have a lead on the culprit, don't we, Traya?"

Traya hung her head under the stares of her friends and the school psychologist, finally admitting, "His name is Beast Boy, he's trying to keep his machine-friend alive, so he's been stealing batteries all year."

Marcy Money frowned at the girl, half accusing, "There's been no reports of stolen batteries."

All three of the older teen girls shared a look, but it was Traya who answered, "He steals stuff none of the girls could admit to having; vibrators and stuff."

Bobby checked the sky to avoid the awkward looks that were going around while tapping the communicator in his ear, "Delphi to Watch Tower."

"Oh, hey, Bobby," the voice of fellow Titan Jesse Quick responded, "What's up?"

Embarrased, Bobby responded, "Not much – my cycle was stolen by someone going by the moniker 'Beast Boy' to help a 'machine-friend'. I need some help."

"You're really hell on technology," Jesse commented while running a search. "Okay, so Beast Boy is a member of a group called 'Doom Patrol', and his machine-friend would be Robotman, a full-conversion cyborg. Your bike is sixty miles to the east."

"Thanks, Jesse," he told her whole heartedly before asking, "Could you send my backup kit?"

She laughed and promised, "I'll have it sent to your location."

Turning to the doctor he prepared for the real argument. "Doctor Money, Cassandra's familiar with these woods – I need her help."

It took the woman no time at all to jump to the obvious conclusion, "No, I'm not having you tromping through the woods unchaperoned."

"I'll go with them!" Cassie offered.

Anita countered, "We'll go with them!"

"Me too," Traya added, "Beast Boy is my friend."

To all three of them Dr. Money answered, "Absolutely not – I'm not letting three girls wonder around the woods at night, especially with a young man."

Cissie stood tall in her blue dress and argued, "You know that I can take care of myself."

"No," the doctor stressed.

Bobby's bag shimmered into existence and he said, "Fine, I'll do this on my own – you all should go back to the party." He winked at Cassie while pulling out the gauntlets and grieves, but in addition to his normal set of gear was a new item with a note from Carter Hall: 'recently unearthed alien tech – anti-grav capabilities'. It would give him more speed if nothing else.

Pulling off his jacket, vest and shirt he handed them to Cassie before putting on the equipment. Cassie nodded, saying, "I'll hang those in my closet."

Kicking off into the air Bobby started tracking the bike but stopped just inside the woods.

***WB 2/12: Cassie***

Back in her room Cassie tossed Bobby's stuff on her bed and quickly stripped out of her dress. She was reaching for the belt of disguise when the door opened. With a shriek Cassie tried to cover herself and turned to see Cissie closing the door quickly behind her.

"I knew you were going to sneak out!" her roommate accused in a whisper before going to her trunk and rooting around the bottom, pulling out a mix of clothes that she quickly changed into. It looked like a female version of speedy – red mask, vest, shorts and thigh-high boots, with a pleated white skirt. From her closet she pulled a quiver of arrows and a bow, explaining, "So, before I came here I was a heroine called 'Miss Arrowette'; I know, stupid name, the point is I want to help!"

Cassie smiled and put on the belt, willing it to alter her appearance. She looked older, late teens more or less, with large breasts that threatened to pop out of the oval cutout in her white long-sleeved leotard, blue gloves and boots, and a red cape on a gold rope that ran under one shoulder and over the other. "Ta-da," she responded to her friend's surprised but delighted look. "Come on, let's go."

Her friend opened the window and considered the drop, but Cassie offered a helping hand in lowering the girl to the ground, and then they took off towards the woods. Before they'd gone twenty steps a figure seemed to emerge from the ground wearing an outfit in purple and gold.

A thick accent greeted them, asking, "An just where do you tink you're going?"

It was a Jamaican accent, feminine, but there was something familiar about it too. Bobby came out of the woods and the stranger ordered, "Stop!" in a strange reverb.

Cassie tried to kick off the ground, but found herself rooted in place, and from the look of things Cissie couldn't move either. Whatever she had done, it had affected Bobby, but to a lesser extent as he seemed to peal his feet from the ground as he stepped forward. "There's no reason for this, we're losing time. If you want to come I'm not is a position to stop you," he said before turning and walking away.

The three girls eyed each other before following Bobby into the woods with Cissie jogging forward to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Miss Arrowette. What's your name?"

"Empress," the other girl answered, "an' 'Miss Arrowette' is ah little long winded, don'cha tink. Canna just call ya 'Arrowette'?"

"Um, ya, totally," Cissie agreed.

***WB 2/12: Bobby***

Empress' powers were hard to define as the quartet zoomed through the woods with Power Girl carrying Arrowette and Bobby flying via the wonderballs. The new girl seemed able to flit through trees, leaping into the trunk of one tree to reappear out of the trunk of another. It seemed that her powers were based on nature as the deeper they went the further she could tree-jump. So it didn't take much time to reach the quad-cycle's location, but that's were things got weird . . . well, weirder.

Two gorillas were shaking the trees as they brawled at the feet of a copper-plated humanoid robot that was laying propped against a tree. One was green, and the other was wearing a beret cap.

"So" Arrowette remarked, "Which one is Beast Boy and who's the other guy?"

Bobby told the new girl, "Do you thing."

Empress waited until the gorillas were separate before commanding, "Stop!"

The gorillas tottered n place, the green one transforming into a sparrow while the black one roar, "Let me go, you dirty human."

"Wow," Cassie exclaimed, "I didn't see that coming."

Arrowette retorted, "An ape wearing clothes and you didn't see that coming? It's almost anticlimactic!"

Reaching into the bushes the ape pulled out a modified assault rifle and Cissie admitted, "Okay, I didn't see that coming."

The girls scattered while Bobby activated a force field. Empress tree-jumpped, pulling a three-foot stick from her back and separating the two halves to reveal sword blades, and prepared to attack. Unfortunately Arrowette had the same idea and fired an arrow at the ape, which he dodged, the arrowhead inflating into a pink boxing glove that hit Empress in the stomach, doubling her up.

"Sorry," Arrowette called out as she reached for another arrow.

Before the gorilla could recover from the dodge Bobby moved forward and grabbed the gun, ejecting the magazine before pulling the charging handle to eject the last bullet. Then Bobby got clear fast, because apes were a lot stronger than humans.

"Ha," Cissie taunted as she shot another arrow at the magazine, covering it with a sticky paste that exploded from the tip, "Without bullets all you've got is an oddly shaped club!"

As if to counter this, the gorilla pulled the two pins that held the upper and lower receivers together, turning it into two oddly shaped clubs. Back on her feet Empress engaged with her swords, but she'd never fought 400lbs of primate wielding two halves of a rifle, and the novelty of it, if nothing else, had her backpeddeling. Arrowette searched for an opening, but just as she was about the take a shot with a net arrow the ape threw the upper receiver at her and the shot went wide. Empress tried a double stab, but the bruiser grabbed her wrists in its free hands and threw her.

Dropping her swords, Empress rolled at the bottom of the fall and came up hard against a tree. Moving low Bobby took up her swords and moved in, somehow sensing how best to use the weapons. It had happened before, but now he could tell what it was: the Gift of Ares – an understanding of weapons and how to use them to best effect. While at this moment he was grateful for it Ares had a reputation for backing the losing side of a war. Whoever had trained the ape had done a good job as it used the second club to hold off the young man, but Bobby wasn't alone.

Sensing more than seeing, Bobby leapt aside to give Cissie a clean shot with an order of, "Arrowette, now!"

The arrow had a barbed tazer tip that dropped the muscle-bound mound of fur, but it rolled, dislodging the arrow. Rather than stick around, though, it beat a hasty retreat into the woods.

"Where's Power Girl?" Empress asked as she accepted her swords from Bobby.

"Up here," Cassie called out. Above them she was balancing the quad-cycle with one hand and was gripping the chest of the humanoid robot with the other, a green sparrow flitting about her. "I figured that you, Arrowette and Bobby could take care of the ape."

She came down and carefully laid the robot on its back, the bike on its wheels.

Looking at the sparrow, Bobby asked, "So, why don't you walk us through this, Beast Boy?"

The bird transformed into a green-skinned boy wearing a tattered and dirty costume. "We were investigating reports of General Immortalus setting up shop in this area, but we were jumped by Monsieur Mallah and controlled animals – the hallmarks of The Brain."

"Who?" Arrowette wondered.

"That ape," Beast Boy explained, "He's called Monsieur Mallah, and the guy who gave Mallah super-smarts is called The Brain – no idea why, I haven't met him yet." He continued the story, "We were over powered – Mento, Elastic-girl and Negative Man were captured, and then Mallah started hunting Robotman and me. He knocked Robotman down, and did something, stole something, and now Robotman can't move – I've been here for weeks, only leaving to scrounge food and batteries, trying to recharge my friend. I can't go far because the animals or Mallah return whenever I'm gone too long."

Beast Boy was near to tears at this point, so Bobby directed the wonderballs to scan the cyborg in order to figure out what was wrong with him. A trio of balls projected the machine body in three dimensions along with power readings. "The problem isn't power – his capacitor is at full charge – but there seems to be a part missing," he pointed it out, "here. Fortunately, the components that feed oxygen and nutrients to his brain are still functioning, so he's alive."

A look of desperation, hope and relief filled Beast Boy's eyes as Bobby tapped his communicator. "Delphi to STRIPE."

Pat Dugan answered, "How ya doin', Bobby?"

"Good, but I need your help, STRIPE – are you near a computer?" he asked, "I need to shoot some schematics at you."

"Just a sec, alright, I'm connected to the Oracle system, shoot away." A moment later Pat said, "Got it."

"He's missing a part at the base of the neck," Bobby explained, "I was thinking that it translated neural impulses into electrical commands."

"Then you'd be right," the Leaguer responded as he looked over the information. "I've got something similar from an old friend, but it's not going to be 100% effective."

"Right now we'd settle for this guy talking," Bobby countered. "Thanks, STRIPE."

With an affectionate tone the man replied, "No problem, Bobby."

As only Cassie had a communicator Bobby explained, "A friend is sending a part, but it won't be an exact match. I can't promise anything."

"You're trying," Beast Boy cheered; he'd be happy with any improvement. "Thank you!"

The part shimmered into existence next to the quad-cycle, but before anyone could do anything with it Wolves howled in the distance, and Bobby remembered BB telling him about the controlled animals. "Arrowette, find a perch; Power Girl, evacuate Robotman and then come back; Empress, Beast Boy and I are on the ground."

With Cassie's help Cissie took the high ground while Beast Boy shape changed into a wolf and Empress unsheathed her swords. Bobby secured the part to his bike and released the wonderballs inside, retrieving the HUD goggles that controlled hem. Cassie grabbed Robotman with one hand and lifted the bike with the other, flying them both back to the school.

Bobby pulled the diadem off his brow and it transformed into a dagger just as a deer burst through the trees, charging right for the young man. He leapt to the side and stabbed, his dagger nicking a collar around the animals throat but not harming the animal. It staggered as it past, and Beast Boy, in his green wolf form, grabbed the damaged collar with his teeth and tore it free. The deer got back to its feet and jumped back into the bushes as the wolves arrived.

"I dink day collars are controlling dem," Empress announced as she moved, slashing at the collars while trying to avoid the claws and teeth.

Bobby nodded, letting one of the wolves get a mouthful of his gauntlet and then cutting the collar free. As soon as it was released the animal bounded off into the woods, doing anything to escape the fight in a bid for freedom. Cissie helped by firing net arrows, pinning down entire groups, and Beast Boy wrestled with the animals, getting his mouth around the collars so that either of the human fighters could slash without worrying about hitting flesh.

In a blur Cassie was back, and she tackled the job of removing collars from the pinned animals, tearing the collars from one wolf after another until they were all gone. The lupines all ran off as soon as they were released, all except for one grey wolf that stopped to look back before springing after its pack-mates.

"Okay, let's head back and get Robotman back on his feet," Bobby suggested.

***WB 2/12: Cassie***

The cyborg known as Robotman sat up with a disgruntled, "Thanks."

"CLIFF!" the boy called Beast Boy cried as he hugged the metal-man.

"Hey, Gar," the man replied as he patted the boy on the back. "Thanks for the save kid – you pull together a really nice crew."

"Who, them?" BB downplayed, "They just horded in at the last second – I had everything under control."

Seeing through the ruse the man chuckled his response, "I'm sure you did, Gar." 'Cliff' attempted to climb to his feet, and Cassie had to help him, but once the man was up he seemed to find his balance. Looking over the group he identified Bobby as he leader and said, "I'm in your debt, but I need you to do something else for me: I need you to take care of Gar while I search for the rest of Doom Patrol."

"What?" the 13 year-old boy, Gar, exclaimed, "No, Cliff, you need me – we can find the team together."

"Gar," the man sighed, "Mento and Elastic-Girl were the ones with parental instincts: I can't search for our friends and look out for you at the same time. I need you to go with the Titans, at least until the Chief and I can get a lead on where the rest of the team were taken. For right now, I'm the Doom Patrol, and were playing things my way."

Hanging his head, Gar relented, "Okay, Robotman."

Bobby stepped up to the cyborg and looked the man in the eye, radiating a sense of majesty. "Robotman, I want you to know that you aren't alone: if you need help, all you have to do is let us know when and where – the Titans, the Justice League, any asset you need."

"Sure, kid," the cyborg replied, the tone so insulting that Cassie imagined that if he could roll his eyes he would have.

Grabbing Robotman by the chest plate Bobby pulled him down until he and the man were looking eye to optics. "Even you can't do everything alone, Cliff."

That seemed to get through to the big guy, who just nodded before walking away, communicating with someone on a secure frequency.

"Don't worry, Beast Boy," Cassie tried to comfort the new guy, "We'll get the Justice League to keep track of Robotman – when the time comes we'll make sure he's there."

Pulling out his ear-bud Bobby offered it to the boy and said, "I trust you, Gar. Look up Cyborg when you get to the tower – he'll get you settled in one of the spare rooms. And, Gar, I'll help you find your family, with or without Robotman."

Gar nodded, looking happier as he fitted the bud to his ear and tapped it, requesting transportation.

Empress vanished into the earth; Cassie flew Cissie back into their room and then tossed down Bobby's clothes before changing back into their dresses, and managed to make it back in time for the announcement of the King and Queen that marked the end of the ball.

There was no surprise when Bobby was called to take the stage as King, even though he'd been missing half the night he was the boy that all the girls wished they had been on a date with – the handsome prince. He was given a fur-lined cape and a crown that the Diadem of Antiope seemed to integrate itself into and was made to stand in front of a throne while Dr. Money prepared to open the envelope containing the name of this season's queen. Cassie bit her lip – she hadn't been around to keep the pressure up, so she didn't know if her early designs were still in place.

"The Queen of this year's Fall Social is . . ." Dr. Money called out to the crowd, pausing for dramatic effect, "Traya Sutton!"

Little Traya's reaction to being named Queen was everything that Cassie could have hoped for: she clapped her hands to her face and hopped in place while Cassie and the others hugged her. She then ran to the stage to take her place next to Bobby and given a crown of her own. They then sat on the thrones while pictures were taken of the pair of them, and then came the last dance of the evening. Bobby led Traya onto the floor and was very sweet as he led her about the floor, limiting his steps to her short legs.

Cassie watched, and she had a sudden vision of Bobby as an adult, teaching his sons and daughters how to dance. It was a beautiful scene, but the young woman couldn't see herself in the picture. When she'd imagined a future with Bobby it had been an image of the two of them in costume, fighting crime side by side. As the vision faded, though, she knew that her dream of the future was not the same as hers – his dream was the home, the family, teaching his daughters to dance. It was what he worked for every day, and Cassie wasn't sure if she had a place in his future.

***WB 2/12: Raven***

Of all the barriers that Raven had encountered the one she currently faced frustrated her the most. It kept changing – a winged reptile, a large primate, a sparrow, a wolf, and then a man again. Every time she thought she had it figured out the barrier changed again and she had to start over. Raven had decided to perform her most powerful spell, the one that called upon her home universe, the name of her mentor in magic, and the name of her childhood pet. The purpose was to create an emotional connection, a connection that tied herself to her father's bloodline and the power that was there.

"Azarath Metrion," she called out, feeling the power building inside of her, "Zinth . . ."

The barrier collapsed, and Raven let the power drain out of her. She crossed, but rather than proceeding she considered the barrier and realized that it was the third of its kind that she'd come across: The Wings of Night, The Two-Halves Make Whole, and now The Changeling. "What do they mean?" Raven wondered.

***WB 2/12: Blood***

The man who called himself Blood woke and felt another of the important barriers opening. He could sense her, drawing closer, the portal that would allow Blood access to the powers that he come to love more than life itself. Lust filled his mind, and he turned to where Mother Mayhem lay next to him, "She's coming," he told her, and she understood the light in his eyes.

End Chapter 12: Beast


	13. Fire

Note: Most of the characters listed herein are the intellectual property of DC Comics and are used without their permission, but also without the intent to make money from the work.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Powerless  
Chapter 13: Fire

The Congregation of the Triptych, as they called themselves, operated out of an ancient cathedral that they had 'corrupted', which lay at the center of a ghost town. All the windows had been removed so that new ones could be put up that depicted the blood-soaked history of the Congregation from their humble beginnings in the Baltic nation of Zandia. Zandia was no more, it was destroyed for being a Nazi stronghold after World War II, but by then the membership of Trigon's worshipers had gone global. Like the church the abandoned town outside the walls had a bloody history – a virgin, a new convert, had been brought here and been offered as foretold to be the mother of one of Trigon's children: the event brought about a curse that infected all the townspeople.

As they say: pride cometh before the falls.

Since joining the Congregation the man who called himself Blood had learned many things, about the church and about himself. They called him Brother Blood, but he was different from them in that he was taking on the image of their master: blood-red skin, cloven hooves for feet, clawed fingers, antlers and four glowing eyes. He had transformed from a pyro-kinetic meta-human into a lens for Trigon's power, and his power had been growing in response to unknown triggers.

Mother Mayhem, the leader of this branch of the church, opened a room and led the way inside – five windows allowed a fair amount of light, but it was what the windows depicted that was the purpose of this excursion. "There are five," she explained, pointing to them in no particular order, "The Wings of Night, the Wondrous Stars, the Changeling, the Two Halves Made Whole, and the Seductive Flame."

"I know this one," Blood said as he considered the second – the Wondrous Stars. It depicted a flight of golden eagles, each marked with a star, forming the image of a woman in an orange bodysuit covered in stars. "DeTox and I fought her in New York over the summer."

Mayhem nodded, saying, "I imagine that they are all active in the world, but only three have been gathered." She gestured to a mark over the first, third and fourth windows – four jewel-like eyes.

He examined them more closely, not recognizing them as he had the other, though the first looked familiar – like Blood had heard of him before. The third and fourth were completely unfamiliar, and he was certain that he'd never heard of them before. Last, the Seductive Flame, looked like nothing but a raging green bonfire, but as he looked closer he noticed that the flames were stylized, like the chrome depiction of a girl on a trucker's mud flap the flames showed a woman performing a series of suggestive dance moves. 'I'm looking for a stripper,' he thought with a snort.

"These five must be gathered for the master's daughter to make the transition to the material plane," the woman explained before cautioning, "But combined they also represent the only threat to the master's power."

Blood considered that as his cloven feed tapped the ground: gathering these five was necessary to gaining more power, but together they were his greatest threat. "We must capture the next one," Blood told the woman, "I must understand her role in this."

***WB 2/13: Koriand'r***

It was torture, pure and simple, to be bombarded from all sides by intense, never ceasing light. Tamarani were able to absorb light and metabolize it into an ability to defy gravity, and in rare cases some were born with the power to project bolts of this star energy. Her torturers were trying to determine the amount of solar energy an average member of her species could absorb before it became poisonous, and so had captured 50 of her people. Bound and blinded they could only scream as they were bombarded by light from all sides.

One by one they had died until only two remained . . . at least she thought that there were two of them left as the screams she heard could have been her own. Still, she desperately hoped that the other was her sister, Komand'r, even though her sister had been so evil to her.

For a moment she thought that she was dying because of the relief – the loss of pain that she took for the release from life. Then her sister's voice: "What is going on, Koriand'r?"

"I know not," she replied, unable to see through the blinder and barely able to move in the restraints. "How long have we been here, sister?"

Groaning, the other answered, "Too long."

Voices could be heard, muffled by either distance or a barrier. It must have been a barrier because the voices became louder suddenly, but it wasn't so much voices as a single voice coming from many throats: the Citadellians. Clones of a singular being the Citadellians were controlled by the Complex, but commanded by a warlord, typically of an alien race. Komand'r had been their last warlord, and now it seemed that they had come for her. "Queen Komand'r," they called to her sister as heavy footfalls passed by Koriand'r, "We must hurry, our Queen, the Reach will recover quickly."

"Bring my sister," Komand'r ordered.

"No time, our Queen" one of the warriors warned, the same voice but in a different position. "The Scarab is on the move."

"Then remove her blindfold and release her arms and legs, let her act as a distraction," Komand'r countered. To Koriand'r the woman added, "But remember, dear sister, the treaty forbids you from returning to Tamaran."

Koriand'r understood as she felt rough hands remove the blinders. The dim light assaulted her eyes after being so long in the dark, so that she could not see the purple-skinned behemoths leave with her sister. Half blind Koriand'r found the door and began to run, blindly taking turns as she looked for a way out. She had to run because the collar around her neck was still suppressing her natural abilities, preventing her from releasing any of the energy she'd absorbed.

Members of the insectoid Reach were laid out on the ground, some regaining consciousness as she ran past them, but she knew that there would be at least one of them who would be immune to whatever toxin that had knocked out the drone- and science-casts – the Warrior-cast: the Scarrabs!

As if the thought summoned it a voice demanded, "MEAT!" Koriand'r looked to see a figure decked out in techno-organic armor, and as she watched the armor around the arm transformed as it reached out towards her, declaring, "Time to put you back in your cage!"

A two-pronged projectile was fired at Koriand'r, and the young woman barely avoided it. Desperation pushed her to run faster, as fast as she could, taking blind turn after blind turn, knowing that she was being tracked. Ahead of her an aperture-like door was closing, trying to herd her back to her pen, but Koriand'r was not going back: she would die before going back. She would rather than be cut in half by the door than be taken back, so instead of turning she jumped through the narrowing space and managed to make it to the other side.

She was greeted by a shocking sight – a hanger full of medium sized craft, including a Tamarani yacht. Koriand'r, a Princess of Tamaran, ran up to it and typed in a royal override code that cycled the airlock. Once inside she ran the ship through a startup cycle and searched for weapons: there was only one, designed to defend against interstellar debris to large for the shields to deflect. Activating the popgun she targeted the other craft in the hanger against one of the walls and started firing, filling the space with burning wreckage. Also a techno-organic creation the ship had a limited intelligence, and given the stimuli it triggered a purge sequence.

Pushing the throttle up to full she moved to the front of the debris that was sucked out of the ship and began maneuvering for space, but someone aboard must have been wise to her move – the hanger doors started closing again. Miraculously she just managed to slip under the door and rocketed through the space between planets to find herself in the middle of a firefight between the combined forces of the Vegan system, all 13 showing an unprecedented level of cooperation. Dodging between weapons fire Koriand'r searched for a clear area where she could activate the jump-drive, meaning to leave everything behind.

An explosion rocked the yacht as the Reach's starship exploded, and the shields were nearly depleted in deflecting the energy and shrapnel. Clear, she activated the drive and a window in space/time opened, sucking her ship and some of the debris into whatever lay beyond.

***WB 2/13***

Known as Titan Island by some, Camp Grey Rock Military Training Center by others, the small island off the coast of Virginia was barely big enough to hold the single 10-story tower and 6 blocks of town that had been built there during the Cold War. The US Marine Corps had used the island to practice amphibious assaults and extractions, and other Law Enforcement agencies had used the town and tower to practice door-to-door and floor-to-floor fighting. Due to lean economic times the US government had put the island up for sale, and it had been purchased by a man named Arthur Curry who made the exchange using pure gold.

Arthur Curry was the 'drylander' name for King Oran of Atlantis, better known as Aquaman of the Justice League – he'd bought the island so that he would have more bargoning power with the drylander nations but really had no purpose to put the island too. So he allowed a collection of teenagers within the Justice League to use the island as a place to gather out of the public eye and away from the often judgmental eye of their mentors. Initially the idea had been that the place would be a clubhouse and perhaps a residence for the college-age members, but when the newly dubbed 'Teen Titans' had invited Robert Trevor-Barnes to join their team it had become part schoolhouse, too.

During the weekends the teenagers would train with First Responders – paramedics, police and fire fighters – learning the lifesaving skills that would make the Titans much more 'media friendly'. They used the town too, practicing tactics designed to reduce the amount of collateral damage that most people had come to expect when a superhero decided to call their cities home. As could be expected, though, when a half dozen super-powered teenagers were let loose damage was done, so Aquaman employed a construction company from the mainland to come through during the weekdays to repair the town-scape.

Recently, the company had been complaining about working with the infrastructure that had been laid down in the 1950's and purposed demolishing the entire thing and starting over from scratch. The teenagers had taken to the idea with enthusiasm, and in a fit of holiday energy had gone all out in a grand melee that had level the town. Robert, known as Bobby to his friends and family, had made it a point to ensure that not even the kitchen sinks survived, going out of his way to use them as weapons against the invulnerable members of the team. As it was the holidays the teens had decided to spend a few days at the tower, so for most of them it was the first time they watched the construction crews working to clean up the damage that they'd done.

"It makes me feel bad," Cassandra 'Power Girl' Sandsmark remarked as she watched the work, "Like I should go down there and help."

"We offered," her boyfriend, Bobby Trevor-Barnes, answered, "and they told us to sit back and watch them work."

To be honest, the over 100 people employed by the construction company were just happy to be employed given the lean economic times. Funded by gold mined from the ocean floor, the company paid their workers, architects and engineers, very well, more than enough to make it worthwhile to return to the same worksite week after week, tearing down and rebuilding the work they'd done the week before. A model of the town lay on a table behind the pair, showing that the engineers and architects were planning on using new building materials and designs to make the buildings more durable. If the science panned out then the new concepts would be employed in places like Metropolis where millions of dollars of damage a week was common.

"Bobby!" Nightwing called out as he came down the hall, "You need to see this."

He took Cassie's hand and led her to the media room where a bank of 27 monitors were displaying multiple news programs that were all running the same story: 'Pretend Wonder Boy Surprises Bank Robbers!'

Feeling his knees going weak Bobby reached for a couch, but instead found himself sitting on the floor as the story played out with his girlfriend kneeling next to him asking if he was okay.

"A teenage boy was shot and killed this morning in Middleton, South Dakota, when he surprised a pair of bank robbers. The boy, whose name has yet to be released, was caught in this amateur video, flying around his home town in a Wonder Boy costume," one reporter was saying before the video rolled. As advertised, the video showed a teenager in a Halloween version of the outfit Bobby had worn as Wonder Boy, grandstanding for the people on the ground.

Bobby's costume had been made of a Kevlar nano-weave and been fitted with minimalist pads, the kind used by stuntmen in the movies, which had enhanced the resiliency that the Power Shackle had provided. The kid, whoever he had been, had no native resistance, and his costume provided no protection against the bullets that ripped through him. Stumbling across the robbers by complete accident the boy hadn't been able to do more than throw up his hands in surrender before the guns had come up. Each shot seemed to rip through Bobby as he watched, and he couldn't help but wonder how much of this was his fault.

"None of it," Cassie answered – and he figured he'd said the last out loud, "Bobby, none of this is your fault: that boy was grandstanding, not fighting crime, not following any of the rules you listed during your first interviews."

When he'd first been dubbed 'Wonder Boy' and began training with the Justice League he'd done a series of interviews in response to letters people had sent him asking for advice. His first piece of advice for those who wanted to be a superhero was simply: Don't do it! Knowing that wasn't going to work he'd continued, "But if you feel obligated to use your powers or skills then here are the steps I think you should follow," followed by a list.

"That's not true, Cassie," Bobby groaned, his eyes glued to the screen where the video was playing again, "He died wearing my costume, he tried to be like me, and it got him killed!"

Nightwing put his hand on Bobby's shoulder, saying, "We see a lot of this in Gotham, Bobby – people thinking all you need is a costume. Usually they break a couple ribs trying to scramble over rooftops and give it up, but sometimes it gets them killed. The guilt you feel isn't wrong, but you have to remember that you played only one part in this, and we won't know how large a part until the investigation is finished."

Bobby nodded and managed to get to his feet, tearing his eyes away from the screens and focusing on the problem at hand. "We need to get ahead of this," he told the assembled teenagers, who looked at his with confusion. "It won't be long before the media is at my door, demanding my opinion and the opinion of all teen heroes, or seeking to lay blame, so before that happens I need to get my side told."

All of them had the anonymity of a secret identity, the ability to vanish into a population of teenagers, but Bobby had never had that opportunity – his identity had been public knowledge from day one – which meant that he was the public link to the teenage superhero community.

"Okay," Nightwing said, speaking for everyone there, "What do you need us to do?"

***WB 2/13***

Standing to one side Samantha Barnes watched as her oldest son took the seat in front of the camera opposite Cynthia Jenkins, a friend. Cynthia was a classically beautiful young woman in her late teens who had been writing for the Daily Planet's Teen Scene while attending college, but seeing her prep for the camera it was readily apparent that the woman was destined for TV. This would be the first time that Cynthia would be in front of a camera since high school, but the idea that she wouldn't do well didn't seem to be in anyone's mind. She was a trusted friend, too, having conducted Robert's first interviews and writing the story from a passionate teenager's perspective instead of the fearful adult perspective.

Robert was dressed smartly in a somber suit and tie, in keeping with the serious situation that was playing out in the media. Samantha hoped that the cameras would convey the depth of remorse that she could see in her son's eyes. The mother could tell that he truly felt for the boy who had died following in his footsteps, and felt for those that lived with the loss as well.

The camera men counted down from five on his fingers and on cue Cynthia gave the camera's a remorseful look as she said, "Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and particularly the teenagers who might be watching. My name is Cynthia Jenkins, a columnist for the Daily Planet's teen section and we are broadcasting from Titan's Tower off the coast of Virginia where the Teen Titans. As you are most likely aware, be it through news reports, social media, or online publications, we mourn today the passing of a young man, a 15 year-old resident of Middleton, SD. Though we do not know his name our hearts go out to his friends, and more keenly his family, who suffer more than most of us will ever know.

"I am here today with a founding member of the Teen Titans, Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes, but most of us still remember him from his brief tenure as Wonder Boy. Robert, how are you?" Cynthia ended her introduction.

Shaking his head, Samantha's son answered, "Today, I'm not doing so well, Cynthia; not since learning that someone had died wearing a version of my old costume. I was literally floored when I heard the news – my knees completely gave out and I sat on the floor for nearly half an hour while I came to terms with it all. A part of me feel like I share some responsibility for his death."

Cynthia put her nearest hand on top of Robert's, squeezed it, and told him, "I'm sorry that you feel that way, Robert, but we won't know what part, if any, your influence had until the police are done with their investigation."

"No, Cynthia," the young man said with a sad smile, "Somewhere someone is figuring out how to lay this entire thing at the feet of the Justice League and teenage heroes in particular, and as the only teen hero without a secret identity that means that the blame will be directed at me."

"But let's face the facts, Robert," the woman argued, "From day one your first words of advice to teens who want to be heroes was: 'Don't do it'. You argued that they should be focusing on finishing High School and getting into college, not fighting criminals in tights and capes."

He nodded, saying, "But then I laid out a series of rules I thought they should follow if they decided not to follow my first recommendation."

"The first being that they should tell a responsible adult," Cynthia pointed out. "A parent, a school teacher, or a police officer; someone who could give them advice and direction, but Robert, we don't know if this young man did that. All the video shows is a teenager glorying in his ability, the power to defy gravity, while wearing a version of your costume. We don't know if he followed rule one."

"We don't," he agreed, but then countered, "But it won't matter. As the only teenager without a secret identity I represent something that all parents fear – a teenager with no seeming regard for my own wellbeing. As a species we are hardwired to protect the next generation, and some people will go to extreme measures to protect their children, but here I am – a teenage hero."

The conversation was, in part, staged so that Robert spelled out the difficulties that teenagers were facing while Cynthia, as the representative of the media, consoled him. It had been Cynthia's idea, an attempt to bias media coverage in favor of responsible teenagers, and Samantha hoped that it worked. Since helping Wonder Woman save that baby and stop the chemically abusing bank robber her son had been fighting an uphill battle against the expectations of the media.

Samantha remembered the early days of his fame, when reporters had been camped outside the estate she'd inherited just weeks earlier searching for a story. Coming home from buying groceries had been a nightmare as cameras were shoved against the car windows and done $2,000 of dings and scratches to her old Seabring sedan, only to turn on the news and hear that she, Samantha, had nearly run over a cameraman. Outraged, she'd taken 15 mintues to cool off and then gone down to the property line to ask how the cameraman was doing, only to learn that his toe had been stepped on by another cameraman, not run over by her tire. When she asked if they were going to file a retraction Samantha had been laughed at.

As Robert had pointed out most news agencies had a fill-in-the-blank response to teenage heroes: moniker, location, villain, property damage. To have a hero without a secret identity, especially a teenage hero, made him a focus, the lens through which all teen heroes were examined. Made to walk a political minefield with no one to advise him Robert had made the most of the situation by publishing a journal through social media that was being used as a guide book for those who felt compelled to follow in his footsteps.

"Oh," Cynthia exclaimed, touching her ear and then recovering, "I'm being told by the studio that the father of the Middleton boy is on the line. Mr. Lancaster, let me first express that we are sorry for your loss."

Mr. Lancaster's first words did not endeer him to anyone, "Well, you should be, especially that little cuss* next to you."

(*feel free to replace the word 'cuss' with whatever curse word you like)

Robert focused, adopting an expression that Samantha had seen several times: it was the expression that his father, Daniel Trevor, had practiced as part of his interview technique. Samantha clearly remembered sitting at the table with Daniel while Robert did his homework in the seat next to her. "I'm sorry that you feel that way, Mr. Lancaster, but could you be more specific?"

In a scathing tone the man responded, "Don't play cute with me you little cuss: you know exactly what I'm cussing talking about. That cussing list that you cussing published that makes every cussing teenager think that putting on cussing tights make them into cussing heroes."

Expression still in place Robert used a neutral tone to ask, "So, your son read my journal?"

With a snort the man barked, "He did, and then he comes to me, tells me that he can fly; then he does it, right there in the living room where anyone on the street could see him. I told him, I TOLD HIM, if he showed off like that in public everyone would know think that he was a freak! Nothing but a cussing freak who would be locked in a cell for the rest of his cussing life. Then he tells me about your cussing list!"

A couple of blinks was the only outlet that Robert gave to his shock. "So, your son came you to, showed you his . . . ability, and you counseled him to keep his power a secret," he summed up without the curses. "But that wasn't the end of it, was it?"

"No," Mr. Lancaster growled, "A week later I caught him sewing together some latex jumpsuit, like a queer's art's and craft's project."

Asking for clarity Samantha's son interrupted, "This wasn't the costume he did in?"

"No, it cussing well was not," the man announced, and sounding proud he added, "I burned the cuss thing and gave Tommy a belting to drive the point home, cuss it."

"So, when your . . . robust verbal counsel failed you turned to corporal punishment to . . . 'drive the point home'," Robert summarized again, before repeating, "But that wasn't the end of it, was it?"

"Little cuss," Mr. Lancaster said angrily, "I caught him sneaking out, training, he called it."

The man's voice had become reluctant, so Robert changed track, sympathizing instead. "I can only imagine, sir; I didn't have a choice, I was practically tossed into the role of a hero, but your son . . . He'd heard your recommendation and chose to ignore you, tried to make a costume and sneak out at night. My dad would have done more than belt me if I tried to sneak out."

Daniel would have done nothing of the sort, except that to Robert being sat down and told how disappointed his father was would have been worse than a beating.

Robert went on, "And look what it got young Tommy," Robert sighed, lamenting, "He didn't listen to you, and it got him killed. You tried verbal counsel, you tried reinforcement; so what else could you do but rough him up a little?"

"Yea, I roughed him up a little," the man admitted reluctantly. "The little cuss had it coming to him."

Robert agreed, "You fed him, sheltered him, clothed him and he didn't listen to you. He got himself killed, so you must not have been rough enough – how much did you rough him up?"

"Bruises and a broken rib," Mr. Lancaster snorted. "His mom patched him up, I made sure all the bruises would be covered by his clothes. Jenna wanted to take him to the hospital, but I told Tommy, I TOLD HIM, that was what happened to all the faggots running around in tights – a hard beating and a knife in the ribs, or a bullet in the head if he was lucky. The little cuss didn't believe me – I caught him trying to sneak out again, and this time . . . ha, this time he tells me he's going out to see a girl. Right to my face the cusser lies to me, can you believe that?"

Shaking his head, Samantha's son agree, "No, sir, that's not the way I was raised." Robert winked at his mother before going on, "I was raised to respect my parents. So, what did you do, when you caught your son trying to sneak out again?"

"Ha, what else was I going to do? Jenna was at work, so I was going to have to take him to the hospital anyway; so I gave him a tap on the head and threw him down the stairs," the man actually gloated!

Nodding, but looking pale, Robert asked, "What was your wife's opinion to your attempts to discipline your son?"

"Stupid cow," the man muttered, "She took Tommy and went to stay with her sister. His death is almost as much her fault as it is yours. I tried, I TRIED, to keep my son safe from the cussed-up morons like you, but he was all 'Wonder Boy this' and 'Bobby Barnes that': that's why this is your fault. So, what do you have to say for yourself you little cusser."

In an irrily calm voice Robert answered, "You have the right to remain silent; if you give up this right anything you say can, and I hope will, be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, but if you can't afford an attorney a law firm associated with G. Gordon Gottfried will likely be in touch . . ."

"Why in the cuss are you reading me my rights, you little cuss?" Mr. Lancaster demanded.

"Because officers of the local police and Sherriff's office will likely be at your door in minutes," Robert answered. "Oh, and if you requested no autopsy be done on your son to cover up your abuse you can kiss that goodbye, because the District Attorney is going to revoke it pending an investigation. Your son trusted you with his secret, and you responded with verbal, physical and psychological abuse."

What came next was a series of curse words, prompting Robert to ask Cynthia, "Can the studio keep recording this for the police but mute it for the audience?" When the audio was cut off he said politely, "Thank you," while dropping the mask and letting his emotions show again.

"That was very impressive, Robert," Cynthia remarked as she took back control of the interview.

With an abashed smile he admitted, "I watched my dad practicing his interview technique when I should have been doing my homework. His partner, now Sheriff Elisha Brown of West Brook, used to say that my dad could hustle hustlers and play players."

"He sounds like a great man, Robert," the woman soothed, "I believe that he would have been proud of you."

Robert laughed as he admitted, "Actually, he'd probably tell me that he was disappointed I wasn't paying more attention to my studies."

***WB 2/13***

The blush was just going out of his cheeks when Roy Harper stepped up to whisper in Bobby's ear, "The League need's a translation."

Bobby turned to Cynthia and told her, "I'm sorry, but the Justice League needs a translation."

Just two years his senior the born reporter commented, "I'm sure the audience would love to watch you work, Robert."

He considered that while tapping his communicator to ask, "Can we broadcast the message and translation?"

"Go ahead," League member Captain Atom answered before playing the message, which came across the impromto studio's speakers.

It wasn't a language that Bobby recognized, so alien that it was probably alien, but the Gift of Apollo served to turn the strings of constantans and vowels into something he could understand. "To the people of the third planet, my name is Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran in the Vegan system. My ship is damaged and I am requesting permission to land in order to conduct repairs, or for asylum if repairs prove impossible."

Captain Atom's voice was piped over the same system, saying, "This had the potential to be a huge international incident. We need to ask her to take a geo-stationary orbit while we sort this out."

There was a moment of silence before Bobby realized, "Oh, gods, you want me to negotiate with an alien noblewoman?"

"You are the only meta-lingual on record," the retired Air Force officer explained.

Still worried the young man relented, "Alright, patch me through." When he got the go ahead he shifted his thinking and found the words flowing from his lips. They made perfect sense to him but were completely alien to everyone else. "Princess Koriand'r, my name is Robert Trevor-Barnes, and I have been asked to communicate with you. Our world is one of nations that do not always get along. While we determine the best course of action we request that you maintain a geo-stationary orbit if possible."

"Oh! You speak Vegan!" the woman cheered. "I will accept your request, but only have two of your planetary rotations worth of rations and potable water."

"Bobby was about to translate that when there was an explosion on the other end and a new voice of clicks and buzzes, "You cannot escape the Reach, meat!" The princess screamed and the line was cut.

"Captain Atom, we've got a problem," Bobby said in English. "Something called 'the Reach' is aboard the princess' ship and from the sound of things it is an unwanted guest."

"Sensors show her ship is losing control," the captain agreed. "We're mapping the likely crash site . . . Oh, damn, Robert, you and the Titans need to evacuate the civilians – the Princess is coming to you.

***WB 2/13***

Blood could feel her coming, and could even tell which one it was: the Seductive Flame. He focused his power, internalizing it, and focused on the image of the flame from the window, willing himself to go to the place that she was, or would be. The courtyard at the back of the chapel vanished to be replaced with what looked like a battlefield – six city blocks on a small island that had been mostly leveled with a single tower rising at the west side of the island. On second look he noticed the construction workers moving quickly in the same direction.

From the roof of the tower one of the Justice League's fancy space planes, this one painted a garish yellow color was lifting off, followed by two news choppers that lifted off from the base of the tower. Blood was tempted to grab one of the construction workers and burn off his arms and legs until the man explained what was going on, but he could feel the Seductive Flame drawing closer from the other direction. Looking across the rocky outcropping to the ocean, and he looked up to see an object falling fast towards the land he was standing on.

A figure he recognized from Fame and Pest's description, Power Girl, was in front and was apparently trying to slow the object while another girl, Stargirl, appeared to be trailing the object, pointing her staff at it. Blood could tell that the Seductive Flame was within the object, which he figured was some kind of space craft, but he could also feel something else. Turning, he found himself facing four others – heroes, but three of them were the other windows.

In front was the Wings of Night, wearing a black costume with a blue eagle stretched across his chest and a domino mask: Nightwing. Behind him was a green falcon that shifted into a green-skinned boy wearing purple and black: The Changeling. A cyborg, a half and half being that had started out as an African teen was close behind: The Two Halves Made Whole. At the rear was STRIPE – the Justice League's babysitter – in a new armor. The four were probably responding to the crashing space ship, but the sight of Blood brought them up short.

"Who are you?" Nightwing asked.

It was STRIPE who answered, "He's called Blood: he's been operating out of New York as a member of Intergang. That pendant he wears is one of the missing artifacts from Professor Gottfried's lab. He started the fire that the Titans responded to as our first mission."

Touching the pentagram that hung around his neck, Blood admitted, "It was a gift, and it has made me stronger since I first put it on. Would you like to see?"

He blew flames at them and the three windows scattered – Nightwing going right, the cyborg going left, and the changeling going up – but STRIPE held his ground, a half dozen wonderballs forming a forcefield between them. When Blood stopped the flames the field dropped and Stripe fired a pair of grenades. Just to show off his new powers Blood grabbed them out of the air, but the projectiles exploded into a rapidly expanding foam that seemed to be attracted to his body heat as the foam crawled up his arms, hardening as it went.

A pair of objects hit Blood in the back and adhered to his skin, admitting a warning trill. His hands covered in hard foam past his elbows he couldn't try to remove the things as a concussive force slammed him in the back just before the objects exploded, sending Blood rocketing forward. STRIPE's fist loomed, striking Blood in the face, rocking Blood so that he was looking up as a pterodactyl swooped down to snatch him up and fling him at a crumbling wall.

Getting back to his feet, humiliated and angry, he saw Nightwing throw battarangs at the wall behind Blood, which the cyborg then detonated with his sonic emitters, causing the wall to collapse on top of Blood, burying him in rubble.

***WB 2/13***

Courtney Whitmore struggled to keep the alien ship together while her firend, Cassie Sandsmark, tried to slow it down. From what she could see something had chewed its way through the hull, past a lot of components that she figured were either explosive or dangerous in other ways. Meanwhile, Arsenal was evacuating people via the Javelin, and Tempest had created an ice burg to evacuate the construction crew. That was the whole of the Titans as the others hadn't been able to answer the summons of 'Calling All Teen Heroes' – a signal that Bobby had set up almost a year before.

The boys were supposed to be waiting below to help deal with whatever was attacking the alien princess, but when she looked for them Courtney spotted them fighting something that looked like the stereotypical devil – red skin, cloven feet, horns. She recognized Blood from reports Bobby had put together on a band of meta-human criminals that had been formed by his old rival, Vincent Harper. Working for Intergang the group had earned the nickname 'The Horsement' for the way they fit the biblical Four Horsemen. Blood was the incarnation of Death in that group because his psychological profile suggested that Blood gloried in killing, almost like he fed on it.

She was worried that Cassie would rush to her boyfriend's aid, but Courtney's friend was too busy trying to slow down the shuttle to notice, and the boys seemed to have things in hand. Together they were able to land the ship, but as soon as it was on the ground the door in the side was blown out with a body in S&M gear followed by a figure that was wearing an insectoid armor.

"Hello, ugly," Courtney commented as she joined Cassie, "You definitely don't look like a princess."

The alien made a series of clicks and buzzes that might have been words, but she didn't have Bobby's way with words.

"Um, what?" Cassie asked, equally confused.

"I said," the alien said in a tone that was like he was gargling, "Are you two the best meat this world has to offer?"

"You want some?" Cassie egged on. "We're more than enough for some back-world hick like . . ."

She was cut off when the alien raised his arms, his hands transforming into something. Courtney was able to throw up a force field to fend off the plasma that was launched at her while Cassie took the hit, throwing up her arms as her only defense. Their powers protected them, but they weren't ready for the bug's assault as it jumped forward, grabbing Courtney and throwing her at her friend while the girl in the S&M gear got up and ran away.

Recovering, Courtney saw the bug stalking the alien girl and used her staff to net a bunch of rocks, swinging them around to strike him, but Cassie had a similar idea, leaping after the enemy, so Courtney ended up hitting them both. Her friend's lack of experience was beginning to show and Stargirl found herself missing her stepdad, Pat Dugan, the orginal STRIPE. Courtney and Pat had worked out a system, taking turn to bring down the bad guy.

Courtney used the power of her Cosmic Staff to move to Cassie's side, but Cassie was already getting up. "What did you do that for?" her friend demanded.

"Ladies, behave," Bobby said as he came to land next to them, "There will be time to debate this later."

"Right, sorry," Cassie blushed.

"That's it, meat!" the bug growled. "You won't live long enough to serve the Reach."

"Power Girl," Bobby offered, gesturing for her to go first. "Stargirl, only the construction equipment is off limits."

***WB 2/13***

Running away from the Scarab, Koriand'r scrambled around the corner of a ruined building to find three of what she assumed were locals – a cyborg, a green boy, and a male in a black costume. She recognized the symbol on the costume from stories she'd been told by her mother: Nightwing, a Kryptonian hero from the days just before the planet's destruction. The sensation when she laid eyes on the male was like an arrow piercing her heart, making it skip a beat, and if it had not already been beating hard for terror she imagined it would be beating hard for another reason.

Tamarans had the ability to learn new languages through the sampling of genetic material – and was usually done by lingering touches, but there was a quicker and admittedly more enjoyable way to do the same. Koriand'r ran right up to the male dressed as Nightwing and kissed him, sticking her tongue into his mouth and stroking his tongue with hers. In a moment she knew many local languages, all the languages that the man she was kissing knew.

Breaking the kiss she took his hand and told him, "You must help, a Scarab of the Reach is chasing me!" She turned, expecting to see the Scarab stalking her.

"Don't worry," the male dressed as the Kryptonian hero assured her, "We've got people handling this Scarab of yours. I'm Nightwing, this is Cyborg and Beast Boy."

"When do I get a kiss?" the Beast Boy joked.

Koriand'r was about to take him up on the offer when a rock pile nearby exploded, and a nightmare from Tamarani history rose from the melted ground: Trigon, the Reaper of Universes!

***WB 2/13***

Furious, embarrassed, Blood lashed out, blasting the collapsed wall away and truck out at the closest of the four. STRIPE had been replaced by the Seductive Flame – a chick in a S&M get up, or were they restraints of some sort? He reached for her, beaning to grab her and teleport away, but Nightwing was right there to deflect Blood's hand with his striking sticks. Angered further Blood breathed fire at the heroes and they scattered to avoid the raging inferno.

The changeling was the first to come back in the form of a green gorilla, but empowered by the arrival of the Seductive Flame Blood caught the nuisance by the throat and threw the boy at Nightwing. In an acrobatic feat the human hero vaulted over the great ape and managed to throw another Battarang. Blood lifted a section of the wall to deflect the weapon, and then threw the section at the cyborg, who had been lining up another shot. When the sonic blast struck the wall it shattered the stone, spraying the hero of fragments.

Hiding behind a wall, struggling with the collar of her outfit, the Seductive Flame screamed when she saw him coming for her again. The sound of her terror was like sweet music to Blood's ears, but he wanted the male heroes to understand the woman's future. Batting away Nightwing's attempt to distract him, Blood grabbed the woman by the throat with one hand, then hooked his clawed fingers around the collar and tore the outfit away to rveal that she was wearing very little underneath.

In her bronze-skinned face the woman's green eyes began to glow as Blood brought her close, intending to kiss her. She put her hand on his red chest, and suddenly Blood was knocked back. He released the Seductive Flame as he staggered on his cloven feet, and when he looked back at her the woman was floating, her hair glowing an auburn color in the sunlight and her hands and eyes glowing with green energy. She looked at her hands like the glow was something new for her too, and then stretched them towards Blood, releasing another torrent of energy.

The stream hit Blood in the shoulder, rocking him and turning him towards the cyborg, who fired his sonic cannon into Blood's chest. He could have stood up to the blast of sound if Nightwing hadn't come from behind and struck him in the back of the knee. Blood fell onto his back and looked up to see a green sparrow transform into a green elephant that bugled before falling on top of Blood, knocking the wind out of him. As if to mock him further the boy transformed back into a green-skinned human and struck a victory pose on Blood's chest.

"That is not recommended," The Seductive Flame warned as she was flanked by Nightwing and the cyborg.

Blood reached for the boy, but he changed into a green field mouse that scampered away, joining his friends before changing back into a boy. It was infuriating – he felt so much more powerful, and yet these four could deny him! He didn't understand, but it seemed that he wouldn't be able to torture the secrets from them on his own.

"This is not over," he threatened before pulling his power into himself to teleport away.

***WB 2/13***

Coming in low Cassie did an uppercut and managed to get in under the bug-guy's guard, sending the alien skyward. Courtney did her rubble-ball gain, smashing the guy back towards the ground, but his back transformed into thrusters, cushioning the fall. Before bug-guy could get full control Bobby was on him, smashing the insect-like armor with his own power-armored fists. She had watched Bobby train with the immortal amazons over the summer, but she was amazed at just how quickly he had translated those moved into a somewhat restrictive suit of armor.

Even with all of that the alien recovered, stepping onto Bobby's foot bug-guy's foot transformed into a restraint that held him in place, and what Cassie had taken for antenna sticking out the guy's back transformed into arms with pincer-claws at the top. Using these new arms to grip Bobby's arms the alien began exerting force, intending to rip STRIPE limb from limb.

"No!" Cassie cried out, focusing on one of the alien's arms.

The bug cried out and the arm she'd been focusing on fell away, severed by something so hot it had melted through the armor!

"What did you do?" Courtney asked

"I don't know," Cassie answered – this was something new, like her super-hearing and only being able to sleep six hours a night.

"Well, do it again!" her friend recommended as the alien bug released Bobby and rocketed towards Cassie.

Bobby grabbed the alien's feet and unbalanced it enough so that the bug hit the ground. He didn't let up, jumping on top of the bug-guy to hammer blows on the alien. Cassie knew that Bobby was buying her time to figure out her new power as it seemed to be the only thing that had made a lasting effect on the alien armor, even though the antenna was reforming.

A plasma blaster formed out of the jetpack and Bobby jumped back to avoid the blast. Cassie focused on the weapon and concentrated on how much she hated the bug-guy for hurting her and her friends. The blaster exploded, tearing the armor away to reveal light green skin and a dark blue device that seemed to be piercing the flesh beneath it. Figuring that was the source of the alien's power she swooped down, meaning to trip it from the being, but Bobby was there first, so Cassie checked herself.

Her boyfriend punched the device with his left fist – the fist that had demonstrated anti-time distortion powers in the previous armor – and figured that the Diadem of Antiope had tied itself into the armor gain. The alien tech spasmed and pulled out its probes from the alien's skin. It tried to scuttle away, but was caught in an energy bubble projected by Stargirl, who joined the two on the ground. The alien himself climbed to his feet, armored plates falling away as he did, and started babbling in the series of clicks and buzzes that was its native language.

Bobby answered, using his Meta-Lingual power to chitter back, answering a question and gesturing to the device in the energy bubble, which had gone still. The alien leapt at the device, a move that looked desperate, and Stargirl punched the guy in the head, dropping him.

"Figures that he'd have a glass jaw under all that tech," Cassie snorted.

The crunch of gravel announced the arrival of the others: Nightwing, Beast Boy and Cyborg, with the alien princess floating behind wearing what looked like a bra, hot pants and go-go boots. Above, the bright yellow Javelin appeared – Arsenal at the controls but with a pair of Justice Leaguers aboard: Blue Beetle and Booster Gold, and followed by Tempest.

"He's dead then," the princess said in perfect English; a statement, not a question.

Blue Beetle knelt next to the prone figure and checked the alien's vitals. "No, I think there's a pulse."

"I didn't hit him that hard," Courtney said in her own defense.

News choppers circled overhead, and Cassie could almost imagine how the scene was playing out in the media when Bobby said, "I've told them he's alive and that we're waiting for the US government to decide how they want to proceed."

One of the wonderballs joined them and projected Cynthia Jenkin's image asking, "Blue Beetle, Booster Gold, as adult heroes can you grade the Titans on their tactics?"

"A+, gold star," Booster cheered.

In a more reasoned tone Blue Beetle explained, "The landscape was already trashed, but none of the construction equipment was damaged more than dings and scratches – maybe $3,000 for paint? All evidence shows that their training is paying off, but the Justice League will put out a more formal report later."

"Thank you both," the reporter said as her image turned to Bobby. "STRIPE, can you tell me how you felt about your partner's performance?"

"I'm proud of Stargirl," someone else's voice, not Bobby's answered through the armor. "She's come a long way since joining the Titans, as a heroine and a leader. I think she'll be ready to start flying solo soon."

Courtney rolled her eyes and pushed the armor affectionately, and Cassie remembered that Bobby was only filling in while the real STRIPE spent time with his pregnant wife.

"Glowing praise," Cynthia approved. "Well, the US government is telling us to clear the area while they recover the alien and his tech. I'm Cynthia Jenkins for Teen Scene on Daily Planet Live!"

***WB 2/13***

The barrier had been a dancing flame, like a sinuous woman moving to a provocative beat. Like the last three it had opened on its own, and Raven finally understood why. It was a gathering of heroes and heroines who were destined to aid her in fighting her father. She would seek them out when she crossed the final threshold, certain that they would be gathered somewhere obvious.

"Soon father," she promised, making a curse of the title, "Soon the shadow you have cast on my life will pass."

***WB 2/13***

With a groan Bobby stepped into the small apartment in the attic of the main house and made for the couch, seriously considering sleeping there. A shadow moved and he reacted on instinct, striking and countering as the shadow detached itself from the wall. He backed up to where the light of the moon shone through the window and found that he recognized the spiky black hair and features.

The fight became more playful, laughter breaking out and the blows becoming taps. It ended in a hug, and Bobby exclaiming, "Gods, Tim, it's good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," his friend, Tim Drake, answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Been asked that a lot?" Bobby wondered. At Tim's not the young man wondered, "Does Bruce know that you're here?"

Tim shook his head, "I don't know, but if he doesn't then he'll figure it out soon. He's just been so . . . overbearing since the whole Joker deal, and I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Hey, it's fine," he told his friend, "I've got a spare room and I'll add your biometrics to my cave in the morning. You can stay as long as you need, man."

"Thanks, Bobby," Tim sighed, "It's nice, you know, that we're still friends."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Bobby assured his friend.

End Chapter Thirteen: Fire

Author's Notes: We're coming to the end of part 2, and yes, I'm gathering the members of the New Teen Titans. Just Donna Troy to go and I'll have them all collected! Please feel free to leave comments, reviews and edits: I do read them and am rewriting chapters 5 and 6 in response to one comment that the timeline was compressed. Oh, BTW: Bobby is removed to Themyscira just a week or two after the events of Ch. 4 – Loss (shortly before Thanksgiving) and he isn't healed until the end of the school year. Cassie joins him at the start of the summer vacation, and they have time to get to know each other before he's abducted by the Bana-Mighdall.


	14. Choice

Disclaimer: Most of the characters depicted in this story are the property of DC Comics and are used without permission, but also without the intent to make a profit on this work. A work of fiction, any resemblance to real people is probably intentional, so if you see yourself in the characterization it's probably because you've met the author, or he met someone like you.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Powerless  
Chapter 14: Choice

The forgotten bomb shelter under the New York Library that was home to the Horsemen rang with shouts, and Deacon King had taken refuge in his room to get away. He wondered as he sometimes wondered how he'd ended up as in a group of criminals that had named themselves for the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Everyone was supposed to have an origin story, heroes and villains, and like all the classic stories his began on a dark, story night when his powers had developed.

He could hear his parents arguing in the next room – his mom was pregnant and his dad had just been laid off – so they were fighting over how they were going to pay the bills. There was a clap of thunder, and everything in Deacon's room shook – his window shattered and stuff was knocked off his shelves. A moment later his bedroom door opened and his parents came in, asking what had happened, thinking he'd made the noise. They were sitting on his bed next to him when the thunder boomed again and his parents . . . they'd been thrown against the wall, and a second boom had pushed their bodies, already broken, through the walls entirely.

Orphaned by his own hand, by a power that he didn't understand and couldn't control, Deacon had hit the streets the next day. He'd scraped by, avoiding people anytime there was a story, but as finding that it wasn't just thunderstorms he had to fear – any loud noise would trigger his power: gunshots, backfires, explosions. As he began to understand what triggered his powers he started to understand how to control it, but it was still a dark, ugly thing that killed those around him. He'd been desperate, looking for help when Vincent Harper had stepped into the alley that stormy night and offered a place out of the rain and away from the noise that would trigger Deacon's power. Looking for anything, Deacon had accepted, and that was how he'd found his way into the Horsemen; only, he didn't fit it.

DeTox, Vincent, was the embodiment of War, always looking for a fight, a challenge – he'd been the first. Blood had come next, the embodiment of Death; almost a literal translation as the guy actually fed on the souls of the dying. Pest, Doctor Henry Martinson, was a genius in insect-ology, or something like that, and had created a device that allowed him to control insects – he was like Pestilence. Finally, there was Fame, Delilah Volk, who could use her power to manipulate time to wither a person into old age, or turn crops to dust, making her Famine. And then there was Deacon, who fit none of the criteria – the odd man out in a lot of ways.

The argument in the other room was over leadership of the Horsemen – Bruno 'Ugly' Manheim, Boss Manheim's son, had been given control of the Intergang cell that included the Horsemen, and Ugly had decided to switch things up.

"You're benching me?" Vincent shouted in the other room.

"No, you're still a member of the Horsemen," Ugly announced, "but I'm putting Blood in charge of the assault on Titan's Tower – the media's been playing them up as the next generation of the Justice League, and that's something we need to crush as soon as possible."

"What, Trevor's merry band of misfits," the 19 year-old retorted, "They're going to self-destruct if you give them time – that's what happens when you don't have a strong leader in a group – which is what you're doing to us!"

Blood spat back, "That's what you've been saying for months, ever since they announced Delphi was joining their 'merry band of misfits', but ever since that event with the alien princess their popularity has skyrocketed, and time is running out."

"Time is running out for what?" Vincent leapt on the operative words in an instant. A lot could be said about Harper, but he wasn't a complete slack-wit.

"You don't need to know that," their demonic teammate chuckled.

Ugly explained, "I will coordinate with Blood when the time for the attack comes. You are all to stay here until that time – leave, and I'll consider it your resignation, and in this outfit resignations are permanent."

"I'm not threatening, Ugly," DeTox growled, "But you will regret this."

Deacon curled up on his bed and dreamed of his parent's apartment, the smell of the Christmas tree in the other room and the anticipation of waking up to see all the presents. The sobs rocked his body to sleep.

***WB 2/14***

The Christmas Eve party at the Gottfired Estate Bed and Breakfast was a private affair for guests, and this year the owners had gone all out. Samantha Barnes had paid for a lavish spread to make the evening memorable for her sons – Daniel was only 6 months old, but Robert, her son from a previous marriage, had been convalescing on the island of Themyscira the previous year. So for both of them this would be their first Christmas in the manor. Half the rooms were taken by paying guests, but the other room had been taken by special guests, which had ended up including one Internationally Acclaimed Socio-Archeologist, a United Nations Ambassador, a Billionaire Philanthropist, and an honest to goodness War Hero.

Colonel Steve Trevor, Army Air Corp/Air Force, Retired, sat in a recliner, being supplied alcohol-free eggnog that he kept spiking with rum from a flask none of the rest of them were supposed to know he had. The man had been in his late fifties when he'd fathered Robert's father, Joshua, and was now almost 90 years old. According to the doctors at the Military Retirement Home he lived at Grandpa Steve probably would probably live to see 100! He entertained them all with stories of his adventures in World War II, Korea and Vietnam, making it sound like he had always been one step ahead of death.

Bruce Wayne, the billionaire from Gotham City, had arrived on the arm of Princess Diana of Themyscira, while his ward, Timothy Drake, had arrived earlier in the day. After a brief conversation the two, ward and guardian, had avoided each other, mostly sticking to their peer groups. It was easy to see that there was some friction between them, but Mr. Wayne had always been a private person in the media – and as the night progressed they learned that he was a private person in most regards. He did open up to questions her husband, Nathan Barnes, posed about the quad-cycle that Wayne Industries had developed, one of which had been given to Robert for testing purpose.

Princess Diana was practically family; she was related to Robert and Steven by an obscure bloodline that dated back to almost 2000 BC. She had visited the manor a few times, and like those times she seemed fascinated with little Daniel, who seemed equally infatuated with her – an immortal raised on an island with no children, the woman's maternal instincts went into overdrive around the baby. Diana's protégé, Donna Troy, wasn't as fascinated by motherhood as her mentor, having only been separated from 'Man's World' a decade ago, but seemed to enjoy letting the infant sit on her lap. It gave Samantha time to socialize with the adults, so she didn't complain, and Daniel loved the attention, so it was a win on all sides. The funniest part of it were the looks that Diana threw Bruce when she was feeding Daniel.

Doctor Helena Sandsmark had arrived with her daughter, Cassandra, who happened to be Robert's girlfriend. This was the first time that Samantha had met either of them, though she understood that the Sandsmark women had summered on Themyscira where her son had been recuperating. Cassandra was understandably nervous, Samantha could remember the first time that she'd met Joshua's parents, but the girl was being a little cold – refusing to hold Daniel even though the baby reached for her whenever she was near. Both were very complimentary about the house and decorations, but seemed at loose ends, and from their comments she figured that they hadn't had a sit-down Christmas in many years.

Samantha was in the kitchen, cleaning up the dessert dishes when Helena came in, grabbing a rag to help out. "Thank you," she told the other mother. "May I call you Helena?"

"Please," Helena replied, sounding relieved, "Do you prefer Samantha or Sam?"

"Samantha," she answered, "The only one who called me Sam was . . . was Robert's father." It was still difficult to think of Joshua, for fear of the depression his death had drowned her in.

"Samantha," the other woman repeated, "You have a very lovely home. How is the hospitality business?"

With a smile she told Helena, "It's going great – Nathan has a real knack for business, and all the improvements we made last year are paying off."

Helena sighed and admitted, "Sometimes I wish I could offer Cassie this – a stable home with a father and a sibling."

It was a potential minefield, but her curiosity was raging, "Where is Cassandra's father?"

"Don't know," Helena sighed. "This time of year he's probably on a beach in the Southern hemisphere." The woman seemed to mentally debate before revealing, "He's Apollo, the Greek sun god."

"Oh!" Samantha exclaimed. She still wasn't sure if she believed in gods other than God, but Robert said that he considered them to be powerful immortal beings. "Does she know?"

Helena shook her head. "At least, I don't think she does; right now the media is debating if Superman is her father since she developed laser vision."

Samantha could tell that the woman had been keeping secrets too long and offered her arms for a hug. Helena actually started to cry as she confessed, "Every time I see Cassie on TV fighting some super-criminal or alien invader I'm so scared she's going to fight someone too powerful. I just want her to be my little girl for just a little longer before she becomes Power Girl full time."

"Oh!" she repeated, certain things becoming clear.

The other mother realized, "You . . . kid know? But I thought Robert told you everything?"

"He doesn't betray confidences," Samantha answered the questions. "In fact, I don't know any of the Titan's secret identities except for Koriand'r; and hers is public record."

"I just feel stupid now," Helena sighed.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she assured. "Actually I'm relieved: the way Power Girl eyes Robert on the news sometimes, well: I was worried he was . . . um, playing the field."

Helena laughed at that and assured her, "If we can both be sure of something it's that Robert is the epitome of loyalty. I suppose that's one of the reasons that Iris chose him to be her champion: it is hard to ignore that level of commitment."

That one Samantha knew about, but she still wasn't sure how she felt about a supposed goddess claiming her son. "What do you know about Iris?"

An answering shrug wasn't very comforting. "She is a minor figure, assigned no sacred animal – her symbol is the rainbow, which was viewed as a bridge between to distance places. As her champion Robert acts as a . . . well, he rallies people, brings them together and provides them with a unifying purpose."

"She isn't going to send him on quests to other dimensions, or arrange some horrible death in the greek style?" the mother lamented.

"Look, Samantha," Helena sighed, "I understand your fears, I do: Cassie lifted 380 tons during her last test. She's afraid of touching anyone: afraid that she'll hurt them." Well, that explained why Cassandra wouldn't hold Daniel. "As for Greek tragities, you have to remember that those heroes allowed their fame to make them arrogant and mean towards the people around them – you've done a wonderful job raising Robert, I couldn't ask for a better girlfriend for Cassie."

Nodding, Samantha agreed, "I'm proud of him too." She smiled as Robert came into the kitchen carrying Daniel, who was making a sucking kind of cry. "Oh, baby," she cooed, "Are you hungry?"

Daniel opened his mouth and made 'ah' sounds while rubbing his belly. Taking him, Samantha used sign language as she asked, "Do you want your bottle?" Meanwhile, Robert was getting a bottle ready, handing it over when it was done and giving Samantha a kiss on the cheek and Daniel a kiss on the forehead he returned to his friends. Both mothers shared a smile as he left – reassured that Robert wasn't the type to fall prey to pride.

***WB 2/14***

The computer lab under the library was a fairly small room, capable of only holding about 6 people comfortably. At the moment it only held three: Tim Drake, Cassandra Sandsmark, and Robert Trevor-Barnes. Tim, in order to keep his identity a secret, had gone by the name 'Al Draper' with the Teen Titans, but he hadn't coming to the weekend meetings, so Cassandra had never met him as Al.

"He wants me to come home," Tim complained as the soundproofed door above closed. "He says that I can do one more test, just to prove that I'm ready to put the costume back on."

"Tim?" Robert said to remind him that Cassandra wasn't in the know.

"I don't care anymore," he countered, saying to the girl, "I'm Robin, you know, the Boy Wonder."

Cassandra's jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to recover. "Oh, um, I'm Power Girl." They shook hands before Tim sat heavily at the computer while Cassandra and Robert sat on the couch.

Into the pause Robert asked, "So, where does that leave you with Batman?"

Tim rolled his eyes – trust Robert to try to keep secrets for as long as possible, but he'd heard enough. "I don't care what Bruce things, Bobby: he's been treating me with kid-gloves ever since the Joker caught me, and I'm sick of it!"

Cassandra's jaw dropped again as she realized that Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was Batman.

With a nod Robert adjusted his strategy to support, saying, "You can stay here as long as you need to, Tim, but you've got to figure out your next step. Do you go back, like Batgirl, or do you strike out on your own like Nightwing?"

"Maybe," Robert's girlfriend started, and then at Robert's encouragement continued, "Maybe you could call yourself 'Red Robin'?"

That got a chuckle out of Tim, and a nod. "Maybe 'Red Robin' is the way to go – establish my own identity."

"We're starting college next year," his best friend pointed out, "You don't have to go to Gotham University."

With a nod Tim considered getting away from Gotham, getting away from the psychotic criminals and desensitized peers. Away from the cave!

"Do you . . . know where you're going?" Cassandra asked Robert.

"Not yet," the other teen assured his girlfriend. "I've actually gotten a few acceptance letters." He reached over and pulled the letters from a shelf, handing them out.

"Gotham, Metropolis, Harvard!" Cassandra gasped as she examined the letterheads.

"Yea, but I'm not interested in a law degree," Robert explained.

"Samuelson University, Oregon?" Tim remarked as he read another letterhead. He turned the chair to the computer and ran a search. Samuelson U had been closed for nearly a decade after a rather gruesome series of still unsolved murders in the forest surrounding the school. A group of alumni had raised millions of dollars to update the buildings and reopen the school.

"They've hired a lot of conservative professors – almost a quarter of the faculty." Robert explained, "and check out the architecture in the area – the 1920's row buildings in Old Town, the modern skyscrapers in City Center, and the gothic design of the school itself."

Tim laughed at that, realizing that years and secret identities hadn't changed Robert at all: he still geeked out over buildings and statues. It was actually reassuring to have a friend who just seemed so constant despite all the craziness that had come into their lives. Looking at the pictures he could understand why Robert wanted to at least check the place out. "I should have bought you an extra SD card for your camera," he joked.

Robert counseled his girlfriend, "Remember, Bruce and Tim have to maintain a secret identity, just like you."

She nodded, understanding his point while a chime announced that someone wanted them to come out of the lab. Robert gave her a kiss on the cheek before getting up, leading the way out.

***WB 2/14***

Bobby rolled his eyes when he came down the stairs and saw all the extra decorations that had been put up overnight. It had been a very good year, so Nathan had given in to his wife's desire to go all out. Knowing that his parents had likely been up till just a few hours earlier Bobby started the coffee and began working on a breakfast spread for his friends and family. They arrived in ones or twos – the teens arriving alone and the adults in pairs.

The first, following the young man, was Donna Troy. "Good morning, Robert," the older teen said as she took a seat.

"You can call me Bobby," he told her. "I do consider you one of my friends."

Donna ran her fingers through her dark hair and retorted, "But I don't like you." She laughed when Bobby blew her a raspberry before taking out a tray of cinnamon rolls. "You know," she commented as the boy glazed the pastries, "You are going to make someone a wonderful wife someday."

He shot back, "Well, I would hope that she was wonderful before I met her, but I'll try."

Rolling her eyes Donna took a roll and a cup of coffee before finding a seat at the table. She was just finishing up when Robert's parents arrived with a fussing Danny in tow. The baby couldn't decide if he wanted to be held by his brother or the new person (Donna) while Nathan made a bottle and Samantha ate. Once he had the bottle, though, Danny settled down and decided that he wanted Donna to feed him, smiling and laughing at the dark-haired girl – the boy was going to be a total player when he was older.

Fed, Danny let Bobby take him for burping while the girl announced, "I'm going to wait in the library."

"Don't open any presents," his mom warned, "The others should be down in an hour or so."

Taking an extra roll Donna waved before heading up the stairs.

Cassie arrived next, wearing the new pajamas that she'd unwrapped the night before – a family tradition. "Um, rolls," she cooed, taking two and sitting down to watch her boyfriend being domestic.

"Don't freak out," Bobby told her before placing his baby brother in her lap.

The girl barely breathed as Danny grabbed her hands and turned around so that he could play with her hair. Demonstrating more control than Cassie though she had the girl helped the baby stand up. Giggling, Danny patted her face and played with her blonde curls. He did this for a few minutes before apparently losing interest and reached for his dad. When Nathan picked him up Danny made a face before giggling as a truly powerful stench filled the air.

"You little stinker," Nathan accused as he took his laughing son out of the room.

Tim arrived next, with Diana and Bruce close behind. Both ward and guardian looked like they'd barely slept – the product of being perpetual night-owls – while the warrior-princess looked like she'd just come from a beauty salon. Needing only a few hours of sleep a night Diana was able to recover from an all-nighter quickly. She, and the others who had undergone the Ceremony of Sisterhood, needed only about three hours of sleep a night.

Grandpa Steve was the last down, looking a little hung over from the rum he'd been spiking his eggnog with the night before. Bobby cleaned up as his family finished up, and then accompanied them to the ballroom above where the tree had been set up to find Donna sitting on the floor, rubbing her eyes as she stared up at the tree.

"I'm fine," she told everyone, "I'm fine, it just hit me . . . all at once, you know?"

Diana reached under the tree and withdrew a box that she placed in front of the founding, saying, "This is from Mother and I."

With trembling fingers the older teen unwrapped her first Christmas present in over a decade. It was a sleeveless orange unitard spotted with stars, a pair of black go-go boots and two metallic bracers. There was a belt, too; black, like the boots, with a silver double-W – Wonder Woman's logo.

Diana explained, "They are magically endowed to give you strength, flight and invulnerability."

The girl stared in wonder at her mentor as the full realization set in. "You . . . you want me to be Wonder Girl again?"

"I want you to be Donna Troy, ambassador in training, but I know that this is what you want, so we compromise," the Princess answered, kneeling next to her protégé. "As long as you don't put the heroics ahead of yours studies I have no problem with you being a member of the Titans, too."

"Thank you, Diana," the teen girl cried, hugging the other brunette.

Gifts were exchanged, and soon the floor was covered with paper and boxes. Bobby's gift to Cassie was a four-pack of VIP tickets to see her favorite band: The Cherry Bombs. She squealed, hugging him before correcting herself at his admonishment of "gently." "Why four?" she asked, throwing a look at Tim.

"I thought you could take Cissie, Anita and Traya," he answered with a shrug. "Make a girl's night out of it."

Cassie smiled and announced, "You are the best boyfriend ever!"

Bruce's gift to Tim was a little more cryptic – a simple holiday card with a deposit slip inside. "It's your college fund," the man explained, but on the back of the card there was a series of numbers that looked like some kind of code – latitude and longitude, maybe. Regardless, Tim seemed surprised by the gesture.

Nathan's gift to all the women was the same – passes to a local day spa with the works. Diana and Donna based their reactions on Helena and Cassie, because the man's wife went a little over the top by sitting in Nathan's lap and giving him a long, lingering kiss. The Sandsmark's just said "thank you" before looking over the included brochure.

Danny's response to his presents was lack-luster as he was too young to understand the concept of Christmas, but he did manage to invent a new game. Posed next to an open box with all his new toys the boy saw the dangling flap above him and grabbed, pulling the flap down and tipping the box over so that it covered him. He made several 'Ah!' sounds as he tried to figure out what had happened, but Samantha tipped the box back on its side, smiling, and the new game was invented!

Danny would tip the box over to hide himself, and everyone would say "Where's Danny?" Then one of them would tip his box back over and they would all exclaim, "There he is!" Laughing the baby would repeat the process, never seeming to tire of it even as noon and the effects of sleep deprivation caught up with the adults.

Bobby offered to watch his brother, letting Tim, Bruce, Grandpa Steve, and his parents to find their beds while the amazons went flying. Alone with his girlfriend and a baby the young man finally managed a question that had been gnawing at him. "Cassie, do you ever wish that I still had my powers?"

Looking up from where she was trying to tempt Danny away from his box with the new toys Cassie blushed as she admitted, "I do. I know that's selfish of me, but . . ."

"It's okay," he told her, smiling as he forced another wad of wrapping paper into a box, "That's the way you feel, but I do want to know why you feel that way."

She looked away before telling him, "It's because we would be equals then, you know?"

"I know," Bobby said, smiling ruefully. "It's nice to know your perspective, Cassie." He didn't tell her that he had the option to be Wonder Boy again, but if he took it there would be no going back.

When he closed his eyes and dreamed of the future Bobby's ideal was a brownstone apartment where his family waited after a long day of beating the streets, chasing down leads and arresting crooks. He liked to imagine Cassie as the loving wife, but that seemed less likely the more time went by. Cassie wasn't going to settle into the role of wife and mother, meaning that he'd have to settle for being Mr. Mom or co-professional. The cozy brownstone was being transformed into a high-rise condo, worrying about his partner and if she would be coming home. And kids . . . there were no kids in his life with Cassie, not like they were now.

But if he was Wonder Boy again?

Danny made his face again, and Bobby picked him up, heading for the changing table to take care of it. "Dad's right, you are a little stinker."

The baby just laughed at the comment.

***WB 2/14***

The headaches were the worst part of the detox process, which was why Vincent Harper avoided the process as much as possible. As things got worse he'd decided to stockpile his stach, which meant not taking doses as regularly as he should to avoid the symptoms. Now, as if to make matters worse, his supply was being threatened by the arrival of half a dozen female toxin users.

Ugly Manheim and 'Brother Blood', as he'd taken to calling himself, had closeted themselves with their leader and a representative of bunch of freaks wearing alien tech from Kaznia, planning the assault on Titan's Tower. Meanwhile, the rest of the team was being sent out to conscript street gangs – they would be the cannon fodder on the assault. It was alright for Fame and Pest, but Crackshot was showing the strain – he was too young to understand the need to crush your enemies ruthlessly. Vincent's problem with this was how he was being frozen out of the planning stage. He had brought the team together, trained them to work together under his leadership, and then been pulled from command

"Are you alright?" Delilah whispered as she joined him in their bedroom, rubbing his back in a way he liked.

"I will be," he answered, giving her a smile.

Delilah blushed at his smile, an expression that was easier to see now that the pimples were going away. She was fairly low maintenance, needing only a few encouragements to make her happy, and as far as Vincent was concerned she was an almost ideal girlfriend. As a meta-human her power was growing, unlike Crackshot she was willing to practice, and doing society a favor by thinning the number of homeless squatters in NYC. The woman had learned to create 'accelerator fields' that turned whatever was passed through them into projectiles traveling hundreds of miles an hour. It made for a hell of a tag team when he threw something through a field!

Pest had been improving his tech, modifying it so that he could widen his control radius, and he'd even learned a few tricks from watching Vincent! He could now cover his body with bugs and use them as an armor to enhance his strength. While not nearly as strong as DeTox, the guy made an excellent relief pitcher.

"After this is over," Vincent told Delilah, "I'm going West, and I want you to come with me."

She smiled brilliantly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Babe, I'd go anywhere with you!"

***WB 2/14***

The final gateway had been wavering for days, but it finally fell, allowing Raven to pass into the prime material plane. She stepped into an alley of a large city and immediately felt the assault of the emotions coming from 200,000 people. It was a lot to take in all at once, but she managed to remember her training and isolated her mind from theirs. Protecting her from the overwhelming force of the emotions also protected them from her influence, but her brief contact with all those emotions was likely to make those prone to pride to make a sin of it.

Isolated in her emotions Raven stepped into the street and began to search for some sign of the heroes she was seeking. Her eyes were drawn to a dispenser on the curb, something that her mother had told her about – put in coins and remove a newspaper – but she could see the front page, which was announcing that some place called 'The Hall of Justice' was holding an annual 'open house' with guided tours. The picture was of an imposing white façade, and the caption below said that it was the headquarters of the Justice League – a gathering place of heroes!

Pulling up the hood of her cloak the woman used the magical energies around her to propel herself into the air. By opening herself only fractionally to the emotions around her Raven was able to orient herself towards the Hall of Justice. She came at it from the side, so she did not see the full effect of the building. What she did see was an unwelcoming party of three steeped in magic.

One had a demonic visage, but she did not sense the passion for cruelty that characterized most demons. Another was a woman wearing mostly black, her outfit accentuating feminine charms. Last, and most powerful, was a man wearing a blue bodysuit with gold accents; wearing a gold helmet that Raven recognized from her studies.

"Nabu," she called out to the man, bowing, "Lord of Order, I am Raven."

"The daughter of the destroyer," the demon growled. "Long have I hunted the servants of your father, girl, and here you are – his herald!"

"No, Etrigan," Nabu commanded, "I sense no ill will from this child: speak, Raven."

"My father's avatar is loose upon this world and those meant to fight him are gathering. I will join with them, and together we will end the work you have begun, Etrigan," she pledged.

"A likely tale," Etrigan accused, "Better to eviscerate you now and let the crows have you. Let me do it, Nabu; I promise that she will not suffer, much."

"No," the prime magician ordered. "Raven, those of whom you speak are meant to combat Trigon himself, not his avatar. If you mean to go through with this you will need to seek out others. Leave this place."

She was frustrated, but could not battle Nabu without drawing on her father's power, and she sense that these two were not the only ones that would come to the aid of the Lord of Order. "I will leave," she agreed.

The other woman suggested, "You should go to Titan's Tower and speak to a teenager named Robert Trevor-Barnes – he is an agent of unity, and should be able to help you."

"Thank you," Raven said with sincere gratitude as she used the emotions of the emotions of the crowd to orient herself towards 'Titan's Tower', and an agent of unity would aid her greatly.

***WB 2/14***

Bobby arrived early December 31st to help set up the decorations for the New Year's party with his friends and girlfriend in tow. Garfield Logan, Victor Stone and Koriand'r, the full-time residents of Titan's Tower, were playing a game of two-on-two basketball with Dick Grayson. The others would be arriving throughout the day with a few chaperones arriving near midnight.

"Okay, everyone, meet Donna Troy," Bobby said.

Dick took over, saying, "Nice to meet you, Donna. We met over the summer, "I'm Nightwing. This is Koriand'r," Kori hugged the young Amazon, "Victor Stone, Cyborg," Vic just waived, "And Gar Logan, Beast Boy."

"So, are you Wonder Girl?" Gar asked, taking in the double-W of her belt and the identical symbol on her necklace – a gift from Bruce Wayne.

"It's just Donna," the 19 year-old answered. "Diana may be my mentor, but I want to establish my own heroic identity."

"That's cool," the 13 year-old replied, trying to sound cool to the older girl.

Dick ruffled the kid's hair as Bobby said, "Well, the snacks are going to be ready around six, so, Nightwing, I'll need you or Arsenal to take the Javelin to pick it all up."

"Will do," the older teen responded, understanding that Bobby's statement wasn't an order – Dick and Roy just had more experience at the controls. "Is this the first time we'll have the whole team together?"

"Ever since we expanded the roster," Tim answered. "Hey, Nightwing, can I snow you something?"

The former Boy Wonder and the current Boy Wonder wandered off, probably to discuss the letter Bruce had given Tim. Running the numbers as latitude and longitude they had found that they were GPS coordinates for LexCorp Tower in Metropolis, and a search of the tower showed that a penthouse apartment was listed under the name Alvin Draper, one of Tim's Alias'. It looked like Batman was giving Robin an out if he wanted it, but Tim wanted to ask Dick about what had happened when Dick had become Nightwing.

"Alright, the rest of us need to get started with the decorations. Who's in?" Bobby asked as he lead the way to the boxes.

***WB 2/14***

Blood could feel it, the arrival of the Raven, his herald of destruction – the time had come! Rising from the ash pile that served as his bed in the old bombshelter the man opened the blast door and started breaking in the doors of his underlings. "Wake up," he commanded.

When he slammed on Crackshot's door instead of being blown in the child's power turned sound to kinetic force caused the door to blow outwards instead.

"Ah, damn you," Blood cursed, "I'm going to kill you, you little punk!"

"Leave him alone!" Pest shouted as he came out of his room. "Your plans rest on having the four of us at your side, so you can't just kill one of your lieutenants right before a big battle."

With a growl the demon-empowered being threatened, "You had all better watch your steps, because when this is over I will have no further need for you. Now, gather your followers – they will be met by the congregation and transported to the island."

***WB 2/14***

Cassie did not know what to think when all three of the Marvels showed up – Captain Marvel flanked by Mary and Junior. Mary was Bobby's ex-girlfriend, and from what she understood Junior was the guy that Mary had left Bobby for, only their relationship had soured of late. The Captain was there as a chaperone for the party, and he looked like a 200lbs slab of no-fun. All the other chaperones would be arriving in a few hours, but CM had decided to come with his partners.

As strange as it seemed for her Cassie could only imagine what it would be like for Bobby. As far as she knew this was the first time that her boyfriend had met with Captain Marvel, Junior.

"Cap, Mary, LT, how are you?" Bobby asked.

"LT?" Junior asked, sounding offended.

Scratching his scalp ruefully, her boyfriend explained, "Yea, well, CM3 and Junior just sound so demeaning, so I've been thinking of you as 'Lieutenant Marvel'. Still a subordinate, but not by much. Or you could go by Commander Marvel if you want to keep the initials, but it sounds a little pretentious."

"Commander Marvel," Junior considered, then looked up as if he were afraid of being struck by lightning. He did quail under the disapproving stares of Captain and Mary Marvel, though. "I think I'll stick to CM3 for now, but thanks for the ideas, Robert."

"You guys can call me Bobby," he offered, "All my friends do."

She had to roll her eyes at that, at Bobby inviting people to be his friends by telling them that he already thought of them that way. It was just the way that he was – trying to make people relax around him.

Cassie suggested, "Why don't we give you a tour? Mary, you didn't get a chance to see the place last time you were here."

Mary's smile was a little forced, but then it dropped entirely as she looked north, past the tower, the Captains mimicking the motion. "Do you feel that?" she asked.

Bobby and Cassie shared a look and the diadem he'd been wearing on his forehead slipped as he looked to the northwest, the star shifting to cover his right eye like an eye-patch. "This is new," he muttered, not sounding entirely happy that the magical artifact had demonstrated something new.

Cassie looked and focused, her vision narrowing, telescoping to the point that she could see the bird-like wedge of black energy racing towards them. She had to close both eyes to reset them as the delta-shape came into normal sight distance, the shadowy mass dropping low and approaching at a slower speed. It landed in front of them, the energy taking the sape of a black bird before condensing into the shape of a woman wearing a black cocktail dress with a narrow skirt, her head and shoulders covered by a long hooded cloak.

From the tower the rest of the titans joined them: Static and Gear, Arsenal and Tempest, Stargirl, Robin, Hawk and Dove, Jesse Quick and her date, Hourman, Kendra Talak with her artificial wings, Nightwing and the residents of the tower, with Donna bringing up the rear. Sixteen Titans to join her, Bobby, and the three Marvels: twenty-one in all.

"Ah, you are here," the woman, a teen really, said in an emotionless voice. "The Wings of Night, the Two Halves Made Whole, The Changeling, The Seductive Flame, and The Wondrous Eagles. I will have need of you soon."

"The Changeling," Gar mused, as if he were thinking of changing his moniker.

"What need?" Courtney demanded, stepping forward as the duly appointed leader of the Titans.

A war cry brought the attention fo the teens around to the area of the island that had been cleared of buildings. Through angry red rents in the air a dozen different gangs and people in red robes stepped onto the island, led by DeTox, Fame, Pest and Crackshot. Backing them was the demonic visage of Blood. A knot of soldiers wearing armor like DeTox led a group of all girl punks, and through holes in the air a dozen men with Thanagarian wings joined the mass of enemies.

"Nightwing took commanding, ordering, "Bobby, get to the terminal and get the League here, now! Everyone else, get ready for a fight!"

***WB 2/14***

Racing up the stairs, through deserted corridors and past windows where he could see the fight breaking out, Bobby felt his attention drawn to Blood. The demonic being had taken up a position at the center of a circle of his followers, and as the heavy hitters got close they seemed to be slowing down and becoming weaker – relatively speaking at least. In the air all three Marvels were getting their ases handed to them by the Crimson Raptors.

He bypassed the Oracle System room and went directly to the hanger where the S.T.R.I.P.E. armor was waiting. Stepping in Bobby let the mechanisms and plates close around him as he attempted to send a distress call to the League, only to hit some kind of electronic interference. It seemed that Vincent and his band of thugs and lunatics had thought of everything, but at least the electronic blanket wasn't interfering with his link to the wonder balls that began to circle him as the armor powered up.

One of the Red Raptors flew through the opening roof access and Bobby shot him with a foam grenade, the rapidly expanding material hardening into a cast that locked the man's wings and arms up to his elbows and his legs down to his thighs. Activating the armor's Zero-G module Bobby kicked off, knocking the Crimson Raptor out of the tower where he spiral towards the ground. Another of the Raptors caught his falling comrade and began cutting through the foam – it wouldn't be long before they were both back in the fight, so Bobby shot a tear-gas grenade at them.

Spotting Stargirl Bobby started his own descent towards her, firing smoke grenades at groups of rifle-wielding gang members. The Marvels, Power Girl and Starfire were covering the air; Donna, more comfortable with ground fighting, Hawk and Dove, Stargirl and Cyborg were the heavy hitters on the ground. Everyone else was playing a support or utility role except for Raven, who seemed frustrated as she tried to take the fight to Blood.

"The noob is going to get herself killed," Courtney shouted as she shielded Nightwing, Robin and Arsenal from bullets, "Back her up, I'm fine here!"

Nodding, the young man jumped into action, tackling one of the Bana-Mighdall rebels and throwing her into a knot of gang toughs. He spotted Crackshot, one of the horsemen, in another knot of gunmen, using his power to turn sound into concussive force to multiply their firepower. Bobby shot a foam grenade at them, entangling most of their front line, and Beast Boy used the opening to sprint in as a cheetah, then quick-changing into a hammer-tailed dino so that he could do a spinning tail-slap that sent several sailing. Gar followed up by changing into a field mouse and scampered up one guy's pants. From the girlish screams what happened next would have been funny to watch, but Bobby's focus went to Raven, who was being attacked by a dozen cloaked figures trying to manage a net.

Deploying rescue cutters he snipped a gagged gap in the net that Raven was able to scramble out of. She blasted a few robe wearers with dark energy as Bobby joined her, tossing another couple of the mystics away. He spotted a danger – Cyborg with his sonic cannons going after Crackshot. "Vic, let someone else take him."

"I got this," Victor responded, right before firing his cannons. Crackshot saw him coming and turned the sonic attack around, sending Cyborg flying backwards.

"We need to stop Blood's ritual," Bobby announced as he and Raven dealt with the least of her attackers. "Whatever he's doing is affecting our heavy hitters."

"My father's avatar must be stopped – removing his amulet should separate him from Trigon's power," Raven answered, pointing to the inverted silver pentagram that hung from a silver chain around the demonic-looking man's neck.

Bobby nodded, calling the shots, "Nightwing, Donna, Kori, Vic, Gar – move up and coordinate with Raven: we need to shut down this ritual so that the Marvels can move in."

The young man found himself occupied by DeTox, who was using a combination of boxing and wrestling training which Bobby countered as best he could. It would have been easier if he hadn't been wearing the armor, but outside the armor and he would have been outclassed in strength by the deluded teenager. Bobby was glad that he'd familiarized himself with the way the armor moved, because otherwise he would have been hurting.

"Playing 'D', that's not like you, Harper," Bobby noted, the voice filter disguising him.

Fighting without the mask on his helmet the 19 year-old's expressions were obvious – the frustration and bitter resentment. "Yea, well, I noticed the Trevor-brat ran off the moment he saw me," Vincent spat.

"Yea, well, every team needs a field leader, but they also need a coach," the young man taunted, making it seem that his role on the team was a step above his long-time rival. "He'll probably say hello himself in a moment."

A simple movement of his eyes sent a wonderball crashing into the armored side of Vincent's head. Switching the audio so that it came unfiltered from the wonderball he taunted, "I noticed you brought the old band – how much did they cost?" He was referencing the Bana-Mighdall in Toxin regulators that were giving Donna, Hank, Don and Vic so much trouble.

"They want you," Vincent bit off. "I don't know what you did to piss them off, but they want to kill you worse than I do!"

"Actually, they want to ritualistically rape me," Bobby countered as he blocked a couple blows. That managed to distract the bruiser, so he kicked DeTox in the chest, sending him flying backwards into one of the mages that surrounded Blod.

"DeTox, you fool," Blood screamed, "I told you to keep the ritual from being disrupted!"

Overhead the Marvels turned the tide in the aerial battle, de-winging a couple of the Crimson Raptors. Donna also seemed to recover some of her strength as she plowed through several opponents on her way to join Raven. Seeing how much the attackers seemed to be relying on them Bobby resolved to take out the mages so that the ritual couldn't be restarted. He rocketed forward, but was caught by DeTox and turned towards Blood.

In the months since he'd gotten ahold of the pentagram Blood's strength had reached superhuman scale, so that the clawed fingers that Blood caught him with cut into the armor and crushed the composite metal into a handy place to hold onto. Bobby fired multiple grenades as he grabbed hold of the pentagram with both hands, but when the altered pyro-kinetic tossed him away the robotic hands with all their pounds per inch of grip strength could not hold on. One of the hands was actually torn from the armor as Bobby went from 0 to 98 miles per hour, Blood chucking him away like a major-league pitcher. Then his speed jumped to 982 miles per hour, and Bobby passed out from the G-forces of the acceleration, the armor locking up just before it impacted the tower.

The armor lock protected him from broken bones, but when he came to the young man was dizzy from a minor concussion. He found himself inside what was left of the industrial refrigerator, but it had been knocked nearly 30 feet from the kitchen by the force of the impact. Honestly it was a miracle that he hadn't been blown out the far side of the tower, but it looked like he'd hit everything from the façade to where he ended up, bleeding off speed. Every indicator on the armor was reading critical damage, and it was all he could do to open the armor so that he could step out.

Windows on the floor he'd ended up on were still intact, and through them he could see that things were not going well. He could see Gear dragging an unconscious Static away from the fight, and Blood had reestablished his ritual, sapping the strength of the Titan's most powerful members and allies. Raven had retreated rather than try to face Blood alone. As if to make matters worse news choppers had arrived and were circling, making a documentary out of the biggest fight the Titans had ever faced.

He had to stop the ritual, but it was going to take more power than he'd had, even as Wonder Boy. Bobby moved down the halls to his room and opened the door, his eyes going towards the desk, but he was brought up short by a woman in red Toxin Regulator armor that turned to face him.

"There you are," the leader of the Bana-Mighdall rebels said from behind the mask. "I was certain that you would come here eventually, and here you are, male."

"Long time, Faruka," he remarked, "I have to say that your choice in company has gotten worse – the price of living on the run I suppose?"

"Hardly," the woman crowed, "That cow, Artemis, has closed her doors to the outside world, leaving us to pick up the slack. When we were told the assignment was to assault this tower we simply couldn't pass it up – and our price was you."

"It won't work," he stressed, "my bloodline carries a curse that kills daughters – that's why the Bana-Mighdall do not already have a queen."

"Then we will take your sons, train them to the apex of human perfection and then set them loose on each other until only one remains. From him we will breed the next generation," she explained.

Pursing his lips Bobby admitted, "I'm really not thrilled with that idea, honestly,"

"You have no choice, male," Faruka growled as she lunged at him.

Taking a step forward Bobby knelt and grabbed her thigh just above the knee, pressing his shoulder into her stomach as he stood. Enhanced strength did not provide enhanced traction, and the average-strength teen was able to throw her onto the bed. He then jumped the other way, throwing himself to the ground and grabbing the lowest drawer of his desk. Dragged backwards by the crazy woman, Bobby turned and smacked her upside the head with his impromptu weapon.

She let go, and he scrambled back to the desk, reaching inside the cavity the drawer left behind, his fingers closing on the metal plate with the mesh sleeve. He was being dragged back again, and had no time for subtly. The mesh tube was hanging open, so he shoved his left arm through it. As soon as his hand came out the other side the mesh tightened and the stars stamped on the plate began to glow: red, yellow, blue and indigo. Spells carved into the metal also began to glow a swirling combination of green and violet.

He was ready to feel a sense of resignation, of accepting his fate, but instead he felt relief as he was dragged across the floor by Faruka. Bobby let her stand him up, trying to understand the feelings that were coursing through him at the moment. A part of him hoped the relief came from the bracer, that it was the relief of the Elementals within it that he was feeling, but he knew that the emotion was his.

"Now, you will come with me," the woman said, preparing to head butt him.

He was afraid of her, and that emotion triggered the first disk within the bracer to start spinning. She brought her head against his and cracked the faceplate that was part of the helmet, but doing him no injury. Bobby was angry with her too, and that emotion translated to a second disk spinning – grabbing her hands he easily forced them off his collar. As afraid and angry as he was the young man didn't hate her – he actually felt sorry for her – and releasing her hands he stepped back and waited for her to come after him, but when she did it was like Faruka was moving at ¾ speed. Belatedly he noted that a third disk was now spinning within the plate.

Enhanced cognition had not been one of the powers that the old Power Shackle had granted him – flying 300 miles per hour he'd needed a heads-up display to alert him to upcoming dangers. As it was now when she tried to grapple him Bobby had more than enough time to grab her hands, locking her arms and perform a suplex, driving her head first into the floor.

She recovered quicker than he expected, kicking him in the stomach, but he barely felt the blow, and taking hold of her foot he spun, throwing her against the window with force enough to knock them out of their brackets and sending the woman tumbling towards the ground. He followed her down, meaning to fly, but it seemed that the bracer's fourth disk controlled that power, and he fell five stories. Faruka hit the ground and rolled, accidentally putting herself right below him so that his booted feet slammed into her chest plate.

Bobby stepped off the gasping woman and ripped away the chest piece and then held her in place as he checked her wounds. "You have broken ribs," he told her, "So, if you come after me now you'll run the risk of a punctured lung or ruptured spleen."

"How?" she gasped.

He held up his left arm to show her the plate with the three glowing stars – red, yellow and indigo. Standing up he saw the fight was still ongoing, so he leapt into action, actually jumping into the air and landing in a knot of thugs. He took out their weapons by tried to do as little damage as possible – these guns had likely been used in other crimes and law enforcement would want to run ballistics tests. Taking magazines and leaving disassembled rifles Bobby bounded off into another group where Crackshot was leading the charge.

Landing in front of the teen, Bobby did a front flip over the kid and clapped his hands as hard as possible. The resulting concussive force threw Bobby into the air and knocked the gunmen around the younger teen to the ground.

Strong hands caught him under the arms, carrying him through the air, and he looked up to find himself being carried by his girlfriend, who had the same question as the rebel Amazon: "Bobby, how?"

"Not now, beautiful," he told her. "Right now I need you to chuck me at the closest cultists: we need to get the other heavy hitters up to full power!"

"Right," she agreed, and then spinning she launched her boyfriend at the nearest red-robed fanatics.

Hitting the ground the young man grabbed the robed man and threw him at a bunch of girls in punk clothes. The gun-women were knocked to the ground, and a few of them vented their frustration by beating the robe-wearer unconscious – he would not be reinitiating the circle. Bobby moved to the next one in line, wanting to disrupt the ritual as much as possible, but was intercepted by DeTox.

"Trevor!" the ex-jock screamed as he came on with a flurry of blows.

Bobby was able to see them coming, but his body was slower than his perception, allowing Vincent to get in a couple of blows. This only served to inflate Harper's already staggering ego, creating openings for Bobby, which he used to pry the armor from his opponent. He then smashed his fist against the drug-abusing teen's stomach, and as impossible as it seemed he felt something break under his fist. Vincent had sacrificed a couple feet of intestine to have a toxin regulator placed inside his body, the pump acting as an additional kidney to filter the toxin crystals out of his blood, reheat them into a liquid, and then putting it back into his bloodstream.

"Bastard!" a girl shrieked, and Bobby found himself facing Fame – Vincent's psychotic girlfriend.

He pulled the diadem from his crown and it reshaped itself into a hilt with an ornate blade made of shimmering blue light. That was new, but the Blessing of Ares told Bobby how to use a sword to best effect. Fame's power was to manipulate time by creating distortion fields that extended from her body. She'd been practicing too, if the number of desiccated corpses in New York was in fact her doing.

Magical objects tended to grow more powerful with time, so the diadem resisted the blade of time that the young woman was wielding. Add to that the training Bobby had gotten from the Amazons of Themyscira and the Blessing of Ares and Bobby was able to push Fame back. He also growled, "Listen to me: DeTox is going to need medical attention, so if you love him get him out of here!"

Fame hesitated, and then her face twisted in anger as she produced a second beam of temporal energy. She came at him again with a ferocity that was scary to behold, but easily countered with reason and skill. Bobby turned her around so that she was between him and DeTox before putting her beams in a blade lock and kicking her lightly in the chest so that she knocked down Vincent, who'd been climbing to his feet. "Get him to a hospital!" Bobby shouted before sprinting away.

He scanned the area for another ritualist, but it seemed that the rest had been taken care of by the aerial forces. The air battle was over and the experienced fliers were joining the ground battle. Seeing that gave Bobby hope, and with that the disk under the fourth star began to spin and his feet left the ground.

Blood was furious, and it turned out that the ritual had been enhancing a natural ability, so that when Captain Marvel tried to remove the amulet his strength was sapped to the point that Blood was able to knock the hero away easily. As Bobby closed in he couldn't tell if he was being affected, being new to his powers, but there was a possibility that the Nth metal that the plate was made of shielded him. There was only one way to find out, so he closed the distance and went hand-to-hand.

It turned out that no one had ever wanted to get close enough to the pyro-kinetic fire-bug to teach him close-combat, so getting in close was easy. Once he was inside the bruiser's guard Bobby gave him a right cross that staggered the juggernaught, but it was a follow up left that had a curious effect. The red skin ripples, becoming transparent, revealing an emaciated body in the fetal position wearing a silver pentagram on a thin silver chain inside Blood's chest. Eyes with surprise the villain seemed to realize for the first time that the imposing body he possessed was a fabrication even as the illusion reformed.

Lashing out , the murderer knocked Bobby back, but the teen recovered, and now he had a plan. Acting according to its own rules the diadem twisted itself around his right first like a brass knuckle. He jabbed with the left to disrupt the illusion, then hammered with the right, trying to batter his way through the barrier that separated Blood's real body from the world. A left hook managed to get throughthe barrier, but when he grabbed the amulet Bobby couldn't pull it past the field that made up the physical aspect of Blood's illusion. He let go and was able to remove his hand easily, the image reforming and batting him away again.

Taking to the air Bobby called out, "Mary, Cap, LT!" When he was joined by the three Marvels he told them his plan. "As long as Blood is in the game those cultists will keep coming, so when I'm in position I need you three to bring the lightning – I'll channel it into his true amulet."

"What?" Mary gasped. "Bobby, no; one bold destroyed your old bracer, three will kill you!"

"And Blood, too," Bobby agreed, "But if we don't put a stop to Blood now then he'll just get more powerful.

"What about that Raven chick?" Lt. put in, siding with Mary, "I thought she had a plan to deal with this guy?"

Below Raven and the Titans she'd selected were being pushed back – Blood seemed to grow more powerful the closer they came.

Billy, Captain Marvel, put it together, saying, "This isn't the threat that she is meant to fight. Robert is right, we have to deal with this threat, and he's the only one who can do this, but he needs our power to pull this off."

"No, Bil, Captain, we can't," Mary plead. "Junior," she turned to the other when her brother didn't fold.

Shaking his head CM3 explained, "Cap is right, Mary; Wonder Boy is the only one who can get close enough to do this."

Bobby pressed, "I need all three of you – we don't know how much power this is going to take, which means that we need to error on the side of too much. Once I have my left arm through the hard illusion I'll raise my right, that will be your cue, got it?"

"We'll be ready," Captain Marvel promised. Before Bobby could leave the hero added, "And Robert, Bobby, I do count you among my friends."

Giving them a nod Bobby swooped in with his left fist cocked, ready to go. Blood saw him coming and spewed fire, which the young man dodged, rolling and skimming the ground. Once inside the brute's guard he slammed his left fist against the illusionary body, coming back with a right that warped the energy field, then struck with his left again, breaking through. The fingers of his left hand curled around the true amulet and he raised his right hand, the diadem forming into a rod that glowed blue with magical energies.

"SHAZAM!" two voices called in unison while another cried, "Captain Marvel!" The trio then fled as three lightning bolts streaked towards the ground. Bobby only had enough time to think, "Please, work," before the lightning struck his upraised beacon, coursing through his body to his other arm.

The silver wire crumpled in his fist, the chain it was attached to melted, and the feedback knocked Bobby backwards into the tower, which groaned in complaint before crumbling to the ground on top of him.

***WB 2/14***

The news cameras caught it all, the powwow, the attack and the sacrifice, before being momentarily blinded by the flash. One helicopter was knocked out by a pulse of energy, the auto-rotation of the blades allowing the pilot to make a successful crash landing. All the others circled, some searching for Wonder Boy, the others following the action, because it seemed that the sacrifice of Tomorrow's Promise had accomplished nothing.

Rising from the crater of the explosion had created the creature roared, towering 40 feet into the air as he stood, taller and more imposing than ever. One reporter noted the lack of the amulet as they followed a young woman in orange who lassoed the monster's cloven feet, yanking back on the rope and tripping the thing up. It hit the ground, and four other Titans jumped into the fray – known members Cyborg and Beast Boy immobilized its arms, Beast Boy transformed into an elephant to pin the limb while Cyborg grabbed the other wrist and attempted to wrestle it in place. The half-machine was joined by Nightwing, who fired a grappling line around the same wrist and helped hold it in place. Starfire peppered the red body with her green energy bolts, preventing the being from raising its chest, while above another newcomer to the team – a girl in a black cocktail dress and cloak – seemed to be preparing a ritual of her own.

Her aspect grew from cloaked girl to a massive figure, like a huge raven that would have used the entire island as a roost. Against the order of the journalists on board the pilots began to pull back, afraid of being caught in another EMP. The energy condensed into a stream that shot towards the earth, striking the demonic figure in the chest. At the giving end the girl was revealed, but her clothes had changed from darkest back to purest white as she directed the energy downward.

When the cloaked girl finally relented the ground beneath the demonic being seemed to be torn by angry-looking red fissures, and the Titans scrambled to get away as the fissures grew. The girl in orange and Starfire swooped in to pull Cyborg and Nightwing to safety while Beast Boy changed into a green robin and flew away. Screaming obscenities and curses the monster fell through the cracks, clawing at air as the rents in the ground began to recede, seeming to take shapes before finally shrinking to nothing and vanishing all together.

The demon banished, the cultists who had been poring through their own magic portals began to tetreat, with the gun-toting gang members pressing to get through as well. All of the Crimson Raptors were grounded, and Kendra Talak seemed hell-bent on preventing the Kaznian extremists from making it to the portal. Half a dozen Bana-Mighdall Amazons in regulator suits were carrying a seventh in red armor to cigarette boats at the harbor, a couple dozen female punks following – not all of whom would fit on the boats. DeTox was being supported by his girlfriend, who projected a field that shot them into the air when they stepped through it – at the apex of their launch she projected another field that shot them out over the water towards land. Pest managed to make it through a portal by bullying his way through the line.

Crackshot tried to join a line, but he was snatched up by Power Girl, who was crying as she said, "Bobby would never forgive me if I let you go back to the Horsemen. He'd . . ." she paused to stifle a case of the sniffles before going on, "He would want you tried as a minor and given a place on the Titans when you got out."

She dropped next to Nightwing, who quickly zip-tied Crackshot while the grounded news crew followed everything documentary style like they were war correspondents. Other crews were landing to follow the action as the Titans put their training to work, providing first aid to the men and women who'd attacked them. As Jesse Quick put it, "This is what we're trained to do."

Not all the Titans were on clean up as a group of them frantically excavated the fallen tower. Stargirl had her staff pointed at the rubble, and when asked explained, "I'm reinforcing the building so that we can excavate without crushing Bobby." Meanwhile the Marvels were pulling away rubble as fast as they could.

Her staff shook, and Stargirl looked at it as if confused, then announced, "There's something inside trying to get out!"

All cameras turned towards the tower as a huge chunk was lifted into the air from beneath to reveal a human figure holding it up with his right hand, his left fist curled around a lump of silver wire. He was wearing a patriotic costume – blue down the middle from shoulders to the knees where they were tucked into armor plated combat boots and down the inner arm to where the sleeves were tucked into matching bracers. Up the sides and down the sleeves were three stripes – a white stripe flanked by red ones. The bracers were full plate all the way around, not just a plate held by mesh, and the starsglowed a vibrant white instead of separate colors. On the young man's brow the Diadem of Antiope gleemed, the star on it also glowing white, like his bracers

He set the piece of building down and tossed Raven the bundle of wire before taking a moment to look at himself. "Yea, this is new," he sighed.

Static laughed, voicing the giddy relief that all of them were feeling. "Where did you get the new threads and spare bracer from?"

"I think the new Power-Shackle created them," he answered, admitting, "I'm not sure how I feel about magical objects with ideas of their own."

Robin came back from picking through the edge of the ruin and tossed Bobby a red utility belt with Wonder Woman's logo as a buckle. "Here, I'm pretty sure that doesn't think for itself."

"Thanks, Rob," he told his friend, mindful of the cameras, buckling the multi-pocketed belt around his waist.

Reporters started gathering, all clamoring to have the same questions answered in different orders. This was almost old hat for Bobby, who fielded most as Stargirl stood by, ready to answer any questions involving the team.

***WB 2/14***

Colonel Steve Trevor, United States Air Force, Retired, gripped the arms of his chair as he watched the live footage of his grandson fighting someone who looked like the classical representation of the devil. Once more possessing the powers he'd used as Wonder Boy Robert had a brief but intense planning session with Captain Marvel and his young partners before engaging in what the former soldier recognized as a suicide run. It was obvious to Steve that Robert did not intend to come out of this alive, and as the signal was knocked out due to the flash of lightning the grandfather was worried that he'd not only outlived his son but his grandson too.

The nurses had wanted to move him, but Steve had insisted; he would not leave until he knew the fate of his grandson.

Finally, the battle ended and attention turned to digging out the collapsed tower where Robert was supposedly buried. Just as it began, though, the search ended as a huge chunk of the building was lifted into the air by Robert, who'd apparently had time to change into costume. Seeing that, Steve relaxed and folded his hands in his lap.

With a sigh he murmured, "That's good, Bobby; you are going to do this family proud!"

Closing his eyes the man took another deep breath and appeared to fall asleep.

End Chapter Fourteen: Choice

End Part II: Powerless

Author's Note: Well, this brings us to the end of part two, and for those who might ask, yes, I decided to kill off Steve Trevor. He's had a good run in the Justice League: Unlimited universe, having been in his 20s during WW II and living to see the turn of the century, making him at least 85, probably closer to 95. My plan is to write a part III, focusing on Bobby's college years and turning the media against him a little. Please give me feedback using the comments: I really do read them.


	15. Complication

Wonder Boy  
Part III – Hero  
Chapter 15: Complications

The funeral of Colonel Steve Trevor was a solemn event attended by family, friends, and even a few who had once considered him their enemy; men and women who had traveled from the world over to pay their respects. Over the course of his 30 year military career he served on the front lines as an intelligence officer in three wars. His friends included three former Joint Chiefs of Staff, two former Chief Master Sergeants of the Air Force, a Command Sergeant Major of the US Army, and the current director of a government program. An Honor Guards from the local Air Force Base and Army Fort shared the duty of carrying the casket to the grave that lay between the graves of his wife and son. Steve could have been buried at Arlington National Cemetery, but his had been to be put to rest with his family, having outlived them he did not want to be separated from them in death.

A single camera crew from the AF Base's Public Affairs office covered the event out of respect to the family, but the tape would be shared with the media due to the status of one of the attendees.

Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes was Colonel Trevor's grandson and only living heir. He was a handsome teenager on the verge of being a legal adult, with light brown hair and blue-flecked brown eyes, dressed in a somber black suit that looked strange on him, given the very patriotic costume he sported as Wonder Boy. Empowered by a mystical bracer worn on his left arm the 17 year-old was a leader in the heroic community and an icon among teenagers in general, especially with girls between the ages of puberty and menopause. During his time as a hero Robert had mastered the art of ignoring the camera, and he wasn't afraid to show his emotions. So he cried silently as the flag was removed from the casket, folded, and then handed to him. Clutching it to his chest the boy watched as his last grandparent was laid to rest.

Robert was accompanied by his mother and step-father, Samantha and Nathan Barnes, and their son, his half-brother, 8 month-old Daniel Barnes. Samantha was a lovely woman who was taking the loss worse than her son, even though the Colonel was not a direct relation to her. Joshua Trevor, Steve's son, was Robert's father, and had been her first husband before his untimely death while investigating the Falcone Crime Syndicate. After Joshua's death it had been Steve's accusations of neglect that had brought Samantha to the realization that she spent more than a year wallowing in her grief, leaving her son, Robert, to carry the weight of caring for them both on his 14 year-old shoulders. She would miss the old man's candor most of all.

Nathan had known the man least of all, having met the Colonel for the first time at his wedding to Samantha, when the Colonel had stood in for her deceased father to give her away. Steve had promised dire consequences if Nathan failed to live up to his wedding vows, but had also promised to treat him like a son. The old man had been as good as his word, and their following meetings had been friendly affairs, especially their last meeting when Steve had come over for Christmas. He carried little Danny, who didn't understand what was going on except that his mommy and his brother were sad and nothing the baby did seemed to cheer them up for long.

Apart from the main group Amanda Waller, recently appointed Director of the Department of Extranormal Operations, considered the family and the man they had all come to honor. What Robert and his family did not know was the Colonel Trevor had been the original director of Project Cadmus, working with costumed adventurers and the first superheroes to ensure the safety and security of the United States of America. The original purpose of the project was now transferred to the DEO while the Project continued the top secret research. Steve had been Amanda's mentor when she first joined the Cadmus, and in his absence she'd taken the Project down what some would call a dark path in order to assure the defense of her nation. It was a direction that she was hoping not to repeat with the DEO even though the current administration was driving her towards the darker options.

The casket was lowered into the ground and condolences were offered to the family, especially to Robert, who had now lost two father figures. He had mostly gotten control of his emotions, but one of the things that people liked about the boy was the honesty of his emotions – there was no doubt in the people who met him that the boy was utterly sincere. It translated through the camera, too, so long as there was no tampering to the video, which made the young man an important player in the future of the heroic community. Her orders were to recruit him, and failing that to discredit him so that another hero could be installed in the public conscious.

Stepping up to the young man she considered how much he'd changed since she'd first met him over a year earlier. It was more than just the five inches in height – his personality had grown even more magnetic, drawing people to him from all walks of life. Amanda was opposed to tearing down her mentor's grandson, which meant recruiting him; or at the very least making an ally of him.

"Mr. Trevor, I am sorry for your loss," she told the boy, hoping that he would believe her sincerity.

"Thank you, Mrs. Waller," he replied, shaking her offered hand. "Congratulations on your new position: it must be nice, coming out of the dark."

"It is, but I still have access to resources that could be put to better use," Amanda told the young man, offering him a business card. "I understand that the Titans are in the market for a new meeting place."

"We are, thank you," he took the card and carefully put it in his wallet. "So, what direction do you plan on taking your new department?"

Amanda smiled at the probing question, but only answered, "I'm afraid that is not your business, Mr. Trevor, but I do hope to work with the superhero community more openly in the future."

He chuckled, saying, "That would be a welcome change, Director, but it's going to take a lot to convince the senior members of the League . . ."

With a laugh she admitted, "And that's why I want to improve my credit with the future of the League."

"Just be honest with us and I'm sure you'll earn our trust in time," the young man cautioned.

Unfortunately patience was not a virtue that the current administration was known to possess in any degree. Of course, admitting that would win her no allies either, with the administration or the heroic community. "I would like to meet with the leaders of the League and the Titans; perhaps you could arrange it?"

Shrugging, he uncommitedly offered, "I will try."

That was the best that she could hope for, and more than she expected given her history with heroes.

***WB 3/15***

Bobby returned to school a week after the start of term amid a lot of fanfare, feeling like a float in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. All eyes were on him – his peers, the faculty, and the government – which made him feel as if there were a target on his back. He was given make-up work for the days that he'd missed and the homework assignments for the next week because the teachers couldn't be sure when he would be called out of class, or how long he would be gone if he was. In addition to that he was also required to sit with a psychiatrist at least once a week.

He was glad that the new power-shackle also powered down, leaving him mostly powerless most of the time. In stand-by mode he had the reflexes, strength and endurance of an Olympic athlete, which meant that he couldn't compete in sports, but at least he didn't have to adjust much when dealing with his friends and family. It had two other settings, which the media had dubbed 'Powered' and 'Heroic'. The powered setting was almost identical to his old bracer, allowing him to lift about 10 tons, fly at sub-sonic speeds, and reduced the amount of sleep he needed to just three hours. At the heroic setting the magical artifact generated a costume, a second bracer, and extended the plate so that it covered his whole forearm. His strength on that setting was somewhere near 1000 tons and his top flight speed was Mach 2 in the lower atmosphere and Mach 6 at his flight ceiling in the troposphere.

After school Bobby headed over to the Police Office to sign paperwork and accept a Junior Deputy badge and a special cellphone that was only to be used in emergencies. He clipped the badge to the utility belt his best friend, Tim Drake, had given him, and the phone went into one of the pockets with a jack in the socket that connected it to the Justice League ear-bud he wore. Once he'd finished the paperwork for the town of West Brook there were interviews for the County and State law enforcement divisions. It was after dark when Bobby stepped out of the precinct feeling like he'd been drawn and quartered by the interviewers as he mounted his quad-cycle and was sure to put his helmet on before putting his thumb to the biometric reader on the handlebar and reciting a verbal code, mindful of the government agent and photographer that tailed him wherever he went.

Edward James was technically freelance, as he was free to sell his photographs of Bobby to any news agency in the world. What made Eddy different was that he was the only authorized journalist legally allowed to photograph the young man. The best thing about Mr. James was that he sued anyone who used his photos without permission, even going after the paparazzi, which gave Bobby some privacy. Though the man could take photos of the young hero he could not publish any photos that showed the faces of any current or previous girlfriend unless her name became public knowledge. Although he was now rich from selling the photos and suing people, the man continued working because he liked the Barnes family.

Agent Paul Ramirez wasn't getting rich doing his job – he was employed by the Department of Extranormal Operations as part of a multi-agency cooperation called Operation: Fan Boy. It was Paul's and his partner's job to keep track of Bobby, reporting to their superiors and the rest of the 'Three-Letter Posse'. Because Bobby was a minor and had no secret identity to hide behind both the FBI and Child Protection Service were concerned that the 17 year-old might be exploited by his parents or community. Long hours, multiple reports and oversight visits from all the government departments, was bad enough, but making it worse was the fact that Agent Ramirez was attracted to his partner, CPS Agent Wesley Cranston. Both men were homosexual, but both their agencies frowned on workplace romances which meant that the sexual tension between them was going nowhere. The light at the end of the tunnel was that the subject of their assignment would be turning 18 in a couple months – March 20th – and the CPS' interest would run out.

A rear camera showed him the two vehicles that followed him – one rental car registered to the Agents and a beat-up old car registered to the photographer. They followed the road out of town, passing a couple of housing developments before reaching the driveway to the Gottfried Estate B&B and all of them pulled into the garage next to a powder-blue sedan and a forest green light pickup. Bobby was sure to shut the bike off before taking off his helmet because the law required it.

"Evening Agent Ramirez, Eddy," Bobby said, waving. "Long day?"

"Boring day," Eddy agreed, cheering, "But 'Teen Scene' and 'JL Watch' are paying for photos of you in interviews and signing paperwork, so it wasn't a total loss."

"I'm going to bed," Ramirez growled as he headed towards the main house.

Three stories tall the sprawling mansion had been inherited by his mom, Samantha Barnes, from a beloved great-uncle, along with enough money to pay the inheritance fees. She would not have been able to keep it without the drive and business savvy of her husband, Nathan Barnes. It hadn't taken much to convert the house, which had been designed to be a multi-generational dwelling, into a Bed and Breakfast, cutting trails into the bordering forest for hiking, ATVs and horses. A very successful marketing campaign, along with Nathan's personal involvement and openness to customer suggestions meant that even in winter they had tenants – mostly retired couples on vacation.

Covered parking was extra, and they passed the regular lot to see several cars from the local police, their lights flashing. Elisha Brown, the towering dark-skinned Chief of Police, was holding the front door open as two college-age girls in bathrobes and handcuffs were escorted out. "Evening, Bobby," the man said when he saw them.

Eddy's camera came up, flashing photos of the girls that would likely be paired with a rather uncomplimentary story while Paul asked, "So, how did these two get in?"

"Parachuted onto the roof in nothing but their undies," Eli answered, his breath misting in the cold January air. "They hoped to beat the motion sensors by starving themselves for a week, got inside from an attic window on the opposite side of the house only to be locked out by the biometric reader on the door."

"So, B&C?" Bobby asked, wondering if his mom was going to limit it to just Breaking and Entering.

"And prostitution – they propositioned your step-dad to let them up the stairs," the Chief shook his head while the girls were put in the car. "Agent Cranston is also adding 'Attempted Prostitution to a Minor', so these girls will be lucky to stay out of jail."

Shaking his head, Eddy had his camera down and cell in hand, saying, "You'd think these chits would have learned something from that cougar who sawed her way into the attic the week you were gone." He stepped into the mansion as he talked on the phone to one of his media contacts.

The woman he'd mentioned had been posing nude on Bobby's bed when he'd come home and been charged with Malicious Mischief, Destruction of Property, and Prostituting to a Minor. She was being sued for her unpaid rent and the cost of repairs, not to mention facing 5 years in prison. Hopefully these two would nail the point home for the rest of the women who had thoughts of smuggling themselves into his bed, but it would all start again when he turned 18, making his next birthday something to dread rather than a celebration.

"Do you need me for anything, Chief?" Bobby asked wearily.

"Nay, we got this, Deputy," Eli answered, giving the boy's shoulder a friendly shake.

Going inside the young man found his mom and step-dad reassuring their guests that this was an isolate incident and would not be repeated – it was known how the girls had gotten in and what they'd been there to do. Bobby passed them and headed to the kitchen where the cooks were cleaning up after serving supper.

"Buenas noches, Tia Rosmerta," he said to the chef, a Spanish woman he was on friendly terms with.

"Buenas noches, Roberto," she replied in like fashion. "Como como su dia?"

"Exhausting," Bobby told her as he laid out his homework on a side table his family used.

Surprised by the volume she wondered, "Do you have to complete this all tonight?"

"No, I have to have it all done by Friday," the teen answered while one of Rosmerta's assistants put together a plate of leftovers for him. He ate quickly before starting the lessons for the previous week, getting a through a quarter of the stack before his mom joined him to check his work.

"Honestly, I don't know what those useless chits hoped to accomplish," his mom sighed as she took a seat.

"Oh, they most likely wanted to be famous," the chef announced as she checked the dishes before they were put away. "They probably imagined Roberto leaving his bella novia to shack up with them."

"Like that would happen," Bobby muttered as he started another set.

He noticed that his mom had been looking at the same page for three minutes and was biting her bottom lip – an old habit that meant she was worried about something. "Mom, what's wrong?"

She looked surprised, like he'd read her mind rather than her tell. Blushing, she pulled an envelope from her back pocket, the return address was the US Air Force Academy in Colorado, one of the schools he was actually interested in going to. "I know you wanted to go there, so I opened it."

"You're not filling me with confidence, mom," he remarked, taking the envelope and pulling out the letter. It wasn't good news, and could be summed up into a single sentence: 'Due to your unique situation the USAFA cannot insure you.' "So, because I have superpowers I can't go to the Academy. I was afraid this would happen, but . . ."

"But it still hurts," the mother finished for him. "I'm sorry, Robert," she gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Why don't you wash up and get some sleep, baby. This will all be here when you wake up."

Getting up Bobby headed for the third floor and pressed his thumb to the biometric scanner and repeated the password that unlocked the door. The new security feature was in response to the woman sneaking into the attic apartment, and used the same system that kept people out of the computer lab. Connected to the Oracle system like just about every piece of Justice League tech the locking was monitored by the BRO Mk I observation satellite, allowing Batman to track him whenever he entered his bedroom, the not-so-secret computer lab in the library, or used his quad-cycle. The Dark Knight was using the information to establish a personality profile in case Bobby ever went rogue or someone tried to impersonate him. The worst part of it was that he couldn't really blame Bruce for doing it – having someone who could take him down if needed was actually a relief.

Originally the walls had been made of eight-inch thick particle board set tongue in groove into 2x2 boards that were nailed into the floor and ceiling. They worked fine as screens, but they didn't block sound, so while Bobby had been gone for the summer Nathan had put together three inch thick walls made with four pieces of particle board creating three compartments. Both the first and third compartments were filled with polystyrene packing peanuts – the dense, irregular material serving to block sound as well as insulate the space.

The attic came with a bathroom originally meant to be used by the live-in maids who'd been employed at the estate more than a decade and a half before the Trevor/Barnes family had moved in. Showering, Bobby considered his situation, trying to stay positive and find that silver lining that was supposed to be part of every cloud. He looked into his reflection while he considered shaving and figured that he could do correspondence schools, but the things that he really wanted to do required labs that he had to do in person. He was expected to be a leader among teen heroes, the example the media was holding all other young heroes to. If he didn't go to college the media would turn on him and, and against all the other heroes.

If he was going to college then he would have to play politics, maybe even get Amanda Waller involved if persuasion didn't work. He would send emails to the admissions offices in the morning, telling them that he was still interested in attending if they were willing to have him.

***WB 3/15***

"The op is simple," the man known to the group as Command explained, "Get in, secure the package and get out. You wanted more difficulty, so you will have no respawns and limited ammo. There are a number of non-combatants in the area, I recommend that you don't waste ammo on them."

"No respawn?" Rocker demanded, "What kind of dick move is that, Command?"

"I told you not to challenge Command," Keisha lamented as she waited to select her loadout. "You and Damocles went on and on about how easy things were on that last op."

"Shut up, LovePuppies," Damocles shot back. As he had the top score on the leader board he had first pick of the weapons, "I've got the sniper rifle."

"Ah, I wanted the .50 cal," Snowbound muttered as he selected his primary weapon, being second on the list. "Alright, I've got the SAW."

"Shotgun."

"Shotgun, damn it," Rocker exclaimed as he was beaten to the punch – they had the same score.

Laughing, Keisha added a pair of flash-bang grenades to her loadout alongside the standard semi-automatic pistol they all carried.

"Get ready team, we are in position," Command announced. "GO!"

The animatic was the doors of their transport opening and Keisha pushed her movement yolk forward while panning with the other, taking in the austere building that Command had designed. Like always she marveled at the detail that the mysterious computer programmer had put into the level – everything from the buildings to the response of the non-coms who cowered away from the quartet of futuristic soldiers that stormed through the front doors. Rocker tried to go through a window, but instead of breaking an impact point formed on the glass, forcing the guy to use a door instead: that took serious programming chops because breaking glass was easier than impact glass.

Encountering their first combatant inside Damocles shot him with his secondary weapon, twice to the chest and then once more to the head when the foe kept moving, finishing up with a tea-bag over the corpse. It was juvenile, and morbid – meant to imply oral sex with the corpse. The crowd screamed and dropped to the ground as the other three searched for other combatants.

"Stay focused on the objective, team," Command ordered, "I'm uploading waypoints to your HUDs – I recommend you use the stairs as security will lockdown the elevators."

"Let's see how smart this crowd is," Rocker enthused. "Everyone," he shouted, "Get out!"

Screaming and shouting, nearly stampeding, the crowd surged for the doors while the squad of four bypassed the elevator and went straight for the stairs. Their advanced armor allowed them to leap up the stair well, encountering non-coms that ran away as they made their way to the 77th floor where Rocker used one of his shaped charges to blow though a magna-locked fire door. Snowbound lead the way with his Squad Automatic Weapon, mowing down a pair of combatants, laughing as he announced, "I'm in the lead now!"

Command cautioned, "That door is too heavy to shot through."

Rocker placed his second shaped charge against the wall beside the heavy door, quasi-quoting, "Confucius say: he who spends money on unbreakable door does not spend money on wall."

The wall blew away, and Rocker lead the way into the room only to be caught in a hail of bullets.

"Rocker," Keisha screamed as she watched her friend's avatar fall backwards and begin to melt. She took position behind the door – the thing they were sure was bullet-proof – and tossed a flash-bang into the room.

She and Snowbound entered the room while Damocles covered them with the rifle, but as soon as she was through the hole in the wall and man behind a desk popped up with a fully-automatic pistol and riddled her avatar with bullets. The image of the screen was of her falling backwards before her armor self-destructed and the screen went blank.

"Damn it," she cursed – not only had she died, but she hadn't moved up the leader-board at all!

"That's not very becoming language for a young lady," a man's voice admonished.

"Uncle Malcolm!" the girl cheered as she looked up to see a short, bald man, dark-skinned like her, standing on the far side of a window that hermetically sealed off her room from the rest of the world. She quickly turned off her computer and went over to greet her guest. "What brings you here, Uncle Malcolm?"

"I was hoping to get a teen's perspective, actually," the man admitted, taking a seat outside her glass enclosure. "Robert Trevor-Barnes applied to the school my alma mater, the school my friends and I are funding – we thought that having a celebrity attending would bump up the attendance, but now that he's got superpowers again . . ."

"What, you don't think he'll be a good student because he's a superhero?" she retorted, a scathing note in her voice.

"No, not that, though some on the admissions board brought it up," the man answered. "No, it's more that it will take hundreds of thousands of dollars to insure the university against super powered throw-downs on campus. The mayor isn't very thrilled either."

She frowned, and reminded her uncle, "You once told me that your darkest hour was when you got one college rejection letter after another, do you remember? And then you got into Samuelson U. I bet that if your considering this so are all the other schools and that Bobby Trevor is, or soon will be, worrying that no college will take him."

Nodding, her uncle considered it, still frowning as he explained, "We're going to have to amend the student handbook, but you are right. So, do you want to meet him?"

"Meet . . . Wonder Boy? Me?" Keisha asked, looking at the apartment that was her whole world and noticing how messy it was.

Chuckling, the man said, "Not quite in person." Towards the door into the sitting area he called, "Bring it in."

One of his assistants wheeled in a robot body on a dolly with artificial skin on the lower legs, forearms, hands, feet and head, which was a perfect model of her face. "You'll use a body suit that will translate touch to your body, VR goggles that will show you what the robot sees and translate your expressions to it. Until we can find someone with your blood type willing to donate bone morrow this can be your way to interact."

"Oh, my, God," the girl cheered, hopping in place as she considered the possibilities. Another idea hit her as she wondered, "Will I be able to go to school too?"

"Yep," the man agreed as he unfolded a letter and pressed it against the glass – it was an acceptance letter to Samuelson University. "Congratulations Keisha Kingsman, come this fall you'll be a Freshman!"

While she did a victory dance Uncle Malcolm pulled his cellphone from his jacket, waving the assistant to take the robotic body away while he checked the number. "I'm sorry, Keisha, but I need to take this."

***WB 3/15***

Courtney Whitmore laughed as she watched her friend, Robert Trevor, cutting loose as they flew from New York to California to check out one of Amanda Waller's offerings. She'd never actually seen the normally straight-laced older teen enjoying his superpowers, and found that it made the boy seem less intimidating as he swooped, spun and tumbled. He was laughing too, so totally different from the stern taskmaster he could sometimes be during training, or the careful powerhouse he'd become since getting his powers back.

When Bobby had worked off the fidgets he rejoined Courtney as they speed west she asked, "So, what do you know about this Waller Lady? None of the Leaguers I've talked to have anything good to say about her."

"She has an agenda, you can be sure of that," the boy answered, "But I don't think she wants to hurt us. The worst she might do is bug the bedrooms."

Giving that a thought Courtney asked, "So what do you know about this tower we're going to check out?"

"Twenty stories tall set on an artificial island with a thirty foot hanger on top and a moon pool below. It was built to be a west coast location for the Ultimen – Cadmus was planning to cook up another set of heroes. After the DNA of the first group started to unravel they shelved the program and stopped work on the tower," he explained. "The interior is unfinished, which is actually good for us since we can bargain for a cheaper deal and finish it so that it suits the team."

"Teams," she corrected.

As the secretary of their group it was his job to keep track of all the details and record their meetings.

They passed close to Travis Air Force base and were joined by a pair of F-35 Lightning Joint Strike Fighters. "Morning, officers," Bobby said, and about a minute later a reply came back.

"Good morning to you, too; I'm Captain Jordon, call sign High Ball on your right with Captain Pearlman, Cowgirl, on your left," the lead pilot announced with the other pilot adding a Texas, "Howdy, y'all."

"Howdy Cowgirl, High Ball," Bobby responded, seeming completely comfortable with the banter. "I'm Wonder Boy, JLR-177, and this is Stargirl, JLA-132-R. Our flight plan will take us to San Fran, are you going to escort us the whole way?"

"Nah, we just came up to say hello," Jordon responded.

Cowgirl asked, "So, I heard you applied to the Air Force Academy; got your reply yet?"

"Yea," he sighed reluctantly, "But it was a notification of rejection – I'm an insurance risk."

"Wow, that sucks," Cowgirl remarked as she shook her head. "Just my opinion, but I think the Air Force made a huge mistake by not signing you up, Wonder Boy."

"Thanks, Cowgirl," he said with real feeling, "It means a lot to me."

"She's not the only one who feels that way," High Ball added. "But on that note we have to go – good flying Wonder Boy, Stargirl."

"Thanks High Ball," Courtney spoke up, a little awed, "Cowgirl, clear skies and, uh, smooth sailings?"

Both officers laughed as they gave a salute and peeled away. She heard a click that signaled they were back on a secure channel and remarked, "That was cool: normally when I talk to military officers they tell me to shut up and get out of the way."

"It just depends on the officer," the boy responded as they began to descend towards the tower that rose from the bay.

At the base of the tower the overweight director of the DEO was standing with a businessman in a three-piece suit and a girl in a blue and black one-piece swimsuit and aqua-socks. Courtney had never spoken directly with Amanda Waller, but had worked alongside the Justice League long enough to deal with some of the messes that Cadmus had created, like the Ultimen army that had assaulted the Watch Tower and General Eiling's attack on the parade in Metropolis.

"Stargirl, Mr. Trevor," the woman greeted them, introducing the others, "This is Mr. Andrew Ostmund, he owns the tower, and Deane Rose, the last of the Ultimen."

The girl looked maybe 13, but knowing that she'd been force-grown to be a weapon against the Justice League put Courtney on her guard. Robert, on the other hand, knelt and offered his hand. "Hello, Keane, I'm Robert Trevor, but you can call me Bobby, all my friends do."

Blushing, the girl shook his hand and squeaked excitedly, "It's nice to meet you, Bobby."

In a scathing tone Courtney demanded, "I hope you don't consider her part of the 'property' you mean to sell off."

"Star, calm down," her teammate counseled.

"Actually, I adopted Keane when the Ultimen program was shelved," Mr. Ostmund countered, "I did not pay for her and she is no one's slave."

"We apologize, sir, Keane, but Stargirl fought against the mass clone assault on the Watch Tower that Lex Luthor orchestrated," Bobby pointed out. "We do not hold that against either of you."

"But you hold it against Mrs. Waller?" the little girl asked, taking the woman's hand.

Nodding, the young man sighed, "Mrs. Waller admitted to being at least in part responsible for the attack, Miss Rose. She placed a convicted criminal in a position of power, gave him resources and allowed him to manipulate her, and authorized hundreds of copies of your brothers and sister to attack the Watch Tower. She admitted to that a long time ago."

Keane released the woman's hand and went to stand with her adopted father, looking confused.

Robert soothed, "We believe that Mrs. Waller has learned her lesson, and that she has been working to make amends. That's why Stargirl and I are here – Director Waller has offered to help us find a new HQ for the Titans. Maybe you can visit once we have the place finished?"

The little girl seemed excited by the thought, but her enthusiasm dimmed as she considered, "What happened to all the others, all my brothers and sisters?"

Waller admitted, "Keane, you were the only one to develop a stable genome – we made them as comfortable as possible, but they all died. I am sorry."

Mr. Ostmund knelt and hugged his daughter, apologizing, "Mommy and I didn't want to tell you because we knew it would make you sad. I'm sad too, because I was part of the program, but I hope that by raising you as my daughter I can make my amends, because you deserve to have a long, full, happy life."

She hugged him before turning to face the young heroes, and Courtney felt like crap as she took it all in. "I'm sorry," Stargirl said inadequately, wishing yet attain that Robert was in charge instead of her.

"Let's take a look inside," Robert offered.

***WB 3/15***

Command hated the unexpected – he'd put together the group he had not because they were the best First-Person Shoots, but because they were predictable. He'd spent months working them up to the missions he was now putting them to, and did not appreciate when his well-planned program was disrupted, or when his players did something out of character. But he had to mask his anger over LovePuppies' absence for the sake of the other players, but his notes on her clearly stated that she was always at her computer, always available to play, and always game for whatever he threw at them.

"So, no Pups?" Snowbound repeated as he picked his initial loadout, having moved up past Damocles on the 'Leader Board'.

"Yea, she sent me an email," Rocker answered, "Something about doing a tour of the college she's going to in the Fall."

That didn't fit her profile either; she'd clearly been intending to take correspondence classes in Computer Programming and Forensic Accounting. It would take months to bring someone new into the group, desensitizing them to the ultra-violence of their 'games', and the other players would get bored replaying the 'levels' to bring the new player to their level. Another option would be to clean house and start from scratch with a new crew.

"Wow, that's uncharacteristic," Damocles remarked as he picked his primary weapon, "You don't think she has a boyfriend, do ya?"

"If she is even a girl," Snowbound muttered.

"Dude, not that old story," Damocles sighed. "Just because you found out the 'chic' you'd been sexting was a 50 year-old fat dude doesn't mean there are no girl gamers. I mean, have you checked out Olivia Munn? Um, now she's hot."

"And yet cool, at the same time," Rocker joked, and the three laughed good naturedly.

Stepping in, Command ordered, "Alright, the op is to eliminate a high-value enemy asset. He doesn't know we're coming, but you'll have to get in quick and you're limited to one respawn a piece – limited ammo, but you should have more than enough to finish the op. There are multiple points of entry – I'm sending maps to you now – and I want to see you plan this out on your own."

"Are the windows breakable?" Rocker asked, checking the map.

***WB 3/15***

Hours later Stargirl headed east while Bobby went north, pausing at a supermarket and powering down to stand-by so that the power-shackle replaced his costume with the riding gear he'd been wearing before powering up in New York. The quad-cycle waited for him, teleported there this morning so that he could make the trip north to visit the admissions board of Samuelson University in as mundane a way as possible. While hardly discrete the advanced cycle was mostly ignored as he speed up the 101 to Oregon.

Appearing to be a normal, if heavy, motorcycle the bike actually had four wheels and four electric motors – one each inside the wheel. The electric motors were being powered by a generator housed in the body, where a motor would have been on a normal bike. Paired front and back the wheels were thin enough to be mistaken for single wheels except when the wheels spread for stability, at which time the quad-cycle looked more like an ATV. Covered in white plates with blue and red highlights it could hit speeds over 390 mph he limited himself to the speed limit, especially when he passed through towns. At least he didn't have to stop for gas.

Samuelson University was set on the edge of a dense forest with pine trees that towered a hundred feet into the sky, untouched since humans set foot on these lands however many centuries ago. Purchased by a man named Walter Samuelson when the Oregon Territory was opened to the pioneers the Samuelson family had refused to develop the land despite the wealth they could have made in the lumber trade. The only land that had been developed was the grounds for the half-dozen buildings that made up the century-old school. A pair of dormitories were still being renovated as Bobby pulled into the parking lot, spotting Agent Cranston and Eddy James leaning against their rental cars, but he was met by his step-dad, Nathan.

"So, what do you think of San Fran?" Nate asked as they hugged.

"I saw the 'Full House' house," Bobby joked. "It's a lot smaller on the inside than the sets suggest."

They both laughed before considering the administration building where the father and step-son would soon be called to answer questions that would determine if Bobby was still welcome to attend the school. Followed by the agent and photographer the pair headed that way, pausing only long enough for Bobby to step into a bathroom to change into dress clothes before arriving at the room where the meeting would take place. He was glad that he had taken the time to dress up when he stepped into the meeting room to find himself facing four men and a woman seated behind a heavy wood table, all wearing formal business attire, with a dozen teachers lining the walls; a pair of lecterns between them and the table. In the middle of the room was a single chair.

He'd hoped for something less formal and less public, but nothing could be changed at this hour.

Whispering into his ear, Nathan suggested, "Let me take the chair, stand up to them, and don't let them control the meeting."

Bobby nodded and led the way, pulling the chair back and to one side so that he could stand in the place it had been while Nathan took the seat. Back straight and shoulders square, he considered the men and women arrayed before him with a critical light, taking in the way that they dressed as well as their posture, expression and response. Of the four men only three of them appeared comfortable in the staunch mode of dress that they'd taken up; the fourth moved his wrists in a way that suggested he didn't wear dress shirts often. The woman was comfortable in her dress-suit, suggesting that she was a business woman with some years spent in the boardroom. One of the men was odd – well-dressed, but his clothing was of an older cut than the others, like he'd stepped out of an earlier age.

"Could we get another chair?" the short, bald man at the center of the table asked.

"If it pleases the board I will stand," Bobby called, trusting his step-dad.

There was muttering around the room, but some of the teachers chuckled at the audacity of deciding how he would be represented.

"Very well," the chairman consented. There were name-plates in front of the five, but the man introduced himself and the others. "My name is Malcolm Kingsman and I am the head of the Admissions Board; to my left are Mrs. Miranda Frank and Mr. Lawrence Morris – we three represent the financial backers of our alma mater. To my right are Mr. David Samuelson, here representing his family's interest, and Professor Rick Talbert, he will be representing the faculty in this meeting." To the entire assembly he explained, "The reason that we've gathered here is to debate if we should allow Robert Steven Trevor-Barnes to attend this institution of higher learning. This will be done by the teachers posing questions to Mr. Trevor-Barnes while the board makes note of the answer. Mr. Trevor-Barnes, you have the option to defer a question, but you must answer before a vote can be made. Do you have anything to add before we get started?"

"I would like to thank the board for not simply redacting your invitation, and for allowing me the opportunity to plead my case," he answered, nodding to the table and both groups of teachers. "I would ask, however, that we all be honest here."

"An honest student," Professor Talbert muttered, perhaps unaware of the acoustics in the room, "That would be refreshing." The man was completely oblivious to the stares of some of his colleagues and the rest of the board.

Mr. Kingsman cleared his throat before turning the meeting over to the teachers to ask the questions.

"Professor John Nixon, I teach Ethics," the first teacher introduced himself. "Mr. Trevor-Barnes, I'm sorry, may I call you by one or the other?"

"If you like I prefer Trevor," Bobby answered, "It's the name I've gone by the longest."

Some looked to Nathan, who told them, "I approve of my step-son's choice – I have a biological son to carry on my name, but Robert is an only child of an only child of an only child, so, yea, I approve of his choice."

"Alright, Mr. Trevor," Professor Nixon went on, how much time do you put to your schoolwork after school? And as a follow up, are you trending up or down?"

"Currently I'm spending about seven hours studying, and that's a downward trend since catching up with my homework after attending my grandfather's funeral," he answered the man.

"I am sorry for your loss," the man said, stepping down.

"Mr. Barnes, can you confirm that answer?" Professor Talbert demanded.

From the chair his step-father answered, "I can confirm that my son spends at least 7 hours on his studies – three on homework and four reviewing the lesson material for the next day."

A female teacher from the other side of the room stood, her haughty expression telegraphing her opinion even before she opened her mouth. "Professor Susan Grant, Psychology, Mr. Trevor, how do you feel your . . . association with the 'heroic' community will affect your studies?"

"The 'heroic community' to use your words, Professor Grant, is aware that I intend to graduate college with a degree in Criminal Law and Computer Programming," he answered, going on, "To that end I have not even been offered a place on the Justice League's active roster – I will only be called upon in worst-case scenarios and local disasters, both of which would disrupt normal classes regardless."

"And who decides what a 'worst-case scenario' is?" Talbert asked from his place at the table.

"Professor Talbert," Mr. Samuelson remarked, "the board is to remain silent – if you cannot do that I recommend that you step down and join your peers."

Looking like he'd just ate a lemon and a jalapeno in one the Professor contented himself to dark mutterings as he took notes.

Bobby decided to answer the question anyway. "The decision would be made by the United States government, and come through the Department for Extranormal Operations."

Professor Grant did not look convinced by the answer, but she stepped down so that another could ask their question.

***WB 3/15***

Dr. Thaddeus Sivana considered the case in front of him – an otherwise healthy 19 year-old male who for the past year and a half had been using a neo-steroid called Toxin while going by the name DeTox. In order to make himself Wonder Boy's equal the young man had agreed to an experimental and highly dangerous surgery that had replaced some of his intestine with a device that prevented the deadly crystalline byproduct of Toxin from forming. A lot could change in a year, both in terms of technology and knowledge, and so Thaddeus was now overseeing the surgery to remove the device.

"You have been weaning yourself off Toxin?" the man asked as he reviewed DeTox's vitals.

"Yea," Vincent Harper answered, "I knew I was going to drop Ugly and I wanted a stash to hold me over."

"Well, you will not need your 'stash'," the scientist explained. "I've removed the device and replaced it with a piece of synthetic intestine – it will filter toxins and actually improve your metabolism."

"So it's even more effective at recycling Toxin?" the young man's girlfriend, Delilah Volk, inquired.

He admitted, "No, the new device does not filter Toxin: I'm sorry, but my experiments have proved that continued use of Toxin will kill you, Vincent."

"I don't care," the young man said with the general disregard for life that so many his age seemed to have. "That little poo-flinger, Trevor, has his powers back, and I need the edge, doc."

"I too am engaged in a contest of will with a being who claims 'magic' as the source of his power. The whole lot of fools and charlatans need to be brought down," Thaddeus approved, "However, dying painfully as your bones are transformed into fragile crystals from the inside out will prove nothing, and the Trevor boy is now much stronger than he once was."

"What do you recommend?" Delilah asked as she soothed her lover.

"I have a few things in mind," the doctor admitted with a twinkle in his eye, "But they all require you to be clear of Toxin, so I recommend you abstain for the time being."

"This had better be good, doc," Vincent threatened.

***WB 3/15***

It was easy for Nathan Barnes to tell which of the teachers were Conservatives and which were Liberals based on their questions. The Conservatives wanted to know about his study habits and how costumed adventuring might disrupt his studies. All the Liberals, especially the so called 'Progressive' Liberals, focused their questions to highlight the potential for property damage and security concerns. Some Conservatives were wary of the teen while some Liberals loved him, but it didn't change the direction of the questions they presented.

Through it all Robert presented himself in a professional manner – back straight, shoulders square, looking at the questioners while the questions were given but directing his answers to the Board. He answered all the questions with reasoned logic, never raising his voice, though some railed against him quite loudly. Because he and the questioners were standing it gave equal weight to both sides of the argument, and the professionalism seemed to impress most of the board members. It was obvious from the snorts and unprofessional muttering of Professor Talbert that the man was against Robert from the start.

"I have a final question," Professor Talbert said when Mr. Kingsman tried to wrap things up. Leaving the table unbalanced he took the lectern on his side, "Mr. Trevor-Barnes, how do you intend to pay your tuition?"

Robert found the question odd, as did most of the faculty and administrators from their expressions. "I will answer your question, Professor Talbert, but I get the impression it doesn't matter what I say. To answer, I intend to pay out of a trust fund and with the payout from my grandfather's Life Insurance."

"Thank you, Mr. Trevor-Barnes," Mr. Kingsman intoned dryly, waiting for the Professor to be seated before saying, "Please feel free to tour the grounds while we debate the decision."

"Mr. Kingsman, members of the board, Professors, thank you," the boy returned, waiting for Nathan to stand before leading the way out of the room.

Nathan waited for the doors to be closed behind them before asking, "What do you think Talbert meant with that last question?"

"If I'd said financial aid he would say that it deprived other students of Financial Aid," the teen answered, demonstrating a greater depth of political understanding than Nathan had, "As is, he'll probably say that I'll mess up their numbers for government assistance."

A young black girl walked up to them wearing a pretty orange dress that covered her from ankles to neck, the sleeves covering her arms down to her wrists. There was, however, something odd about her face that the man couldn't quite place. "Hi, I'm Keisha Kingsman," she introduced herself, "My uncle asked me to show you the grounds."

Robert frowned at her, and showed an uncharacteristic lack of tact when he asked, "Are those cameras?"

The sound of shattering windows and people screaming broke out from behind the closed door and all of them turned towards the sound. "Nathan, get Keisha out of here," Robert ordered, the stars on the bracer permanently worn on his left forearm began to light up the primary colors plus indigo as he pulled open the door to reveal that three figures in strange armor had added themselves to the admissions board.

He reached for the girls, but she charged into the room, demanding, "Rocker, Snowbound, Damocles, what are you doing here?"

"Pups?" one of the soldiers asked, lowering his shotgun while another opened up with a drum-fed machine rifle that cut the girl in half, her body falling to the ground outside Nathan's field of vision.

End Chapter Fifteen: Complications

Author's Notes: I'm actually a fan of First Person Shooters, especially the Halo series . . . okay, so I'm more a fan of Red vs. Blue. Anyway, I was watching the news on the recent school shootings and found it disturbing that a majority of the murderers were antisocial and favored FPS games. Some even believed that they were scoring points by killing innocent people. Another report stated that the indoctrination these guys put themselves through is the same type of conditioning that the military puts front-line troops through – the disassociation of target from person. That stuck with me, and got twisted up with my plans for Keisha Kingsman, becoming what it is now. Expect to see more of them, and as always, comments are encouraged.


	16. Plans

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons real or imagined is probably intentional. Most of the characters are the intellectual property of DC Comics and are used without permission, but also without the intent to make money on their use.

Wonder Boy  
Part II – Hero  
Chapter 16: Plans

Dark liquid drained from the body of Keisha Kingsman, but it was not blood and her uncle wasn't shocked enough to have just seen his niece die. Bobby briefly wondered if she was a robot, but didn't' have the time to investigate since there were 17 human lives in danger. Gliding quickly across the floor he took hold of the SAW the first shooter held, ripping the drum from the weapon while pulling the charging handle back to empty it completely. He then threw the armored figure out the window, trusting that the armor the guy was wearing would absorb the impact.

Throwing the other two out the same way, Bobby asked, "Was anyone hurt?"

"No thanks to you," Professor Rick Talbert growled.

"Blame later," Mr. Malcolm Kingsman, one of the school's financial backers ordered, pointing out the window. "Those are remote infantry drones, not real people, but there are people controlling them."

"Right, shock and awe value," Bobby agreed as he floated out the window to face the three combat drones, waiting until they were all looking his way before activating the heroic setting on the Power-Shackle. In a flash his clothes were replaced by his costume, utility belt, and a spare bracer on his right arm with additional plating on the left-side bracer.

"Oh, my God, Command put Wonder Boy on this level? Awesome!" one of them cheered as he and another pulled semi-auto pistols.

The new power-shackle granted Bobby enhanced perception, allowing him to pull off Wonder Woman's bullets & bracers trick, bouncing the bullets into the ground. "Listen to me," he called out, "This isn't a game – you are operating real combat drones."

"Did your audio just cut out?" one of the operators asked the others.

"Guys, I don't think this is a game," the one who had been holding the shotgun wondered.

"Of course it is!" another argued while the other laughed, "I don't care – this is so cool!" Both opened fire and Bobby held nothing back.

Knowing that they were drones he caught the wrist of the first and squeezed until the joint broke while punching the other in the faceplate. The third was holding his hands up in surrender, so instead of punching him Bobby flashed his fingers while saying, "Call 9-1-1."

"They're going to respawn," the third guy warned before the drone collapsed; cut off from the control signals.

Bobby knew the term from playing video games with the other Titans and rose into the air looking for more drones. He spotted a van that did not have the markings of the renovation contractors parked next to it, the back doors opening to admit another pair of drones armed with new weapons. The area was clear of workers, who had probably fled when the armed and armored soldiers had first appeared. There was, however, a lot of high-value equipment that the owners probably couldn't afford to replace, so instead he swooped down and knocked the robots back into the van before closing the doors on them.

He lifted the van into the air while a driver jumped out, seeming shocked to see a superhero stealing his ride. Nearby the quad-cycle started up, releasing a dozen softball sized blue spheres with a single white star on each. Half of them surrounded the driver while four shot after Bobby and the other two started admitting flashing lights and a siren. That would attract the police or campus security, who could detain the man in a more traditional way.

Meanwhile, Bobby spotted an old rock quarry and flew the van there, setting it down and tearing the doors off. When the drones emerged they opened fire with assault rifles. Backing up, he bounced the bullets off his bracers and managed to send one into the knee of one drone, which tripped the next time it took a step. Using the opening he disarmed the other drone, grabbed it by the chest and flipping it over his head Bobby drove the machine head-first into the ground. Following up with a kick that sent the downed machine flying backwards into a rock wall.

"Ah!" he cried when something hit him in the back, and he turned to see another robot carrying a shotgun coming out of the van.

It was a semi-automatic weapon, meaning that the next slug was coming fast. Bobby brought up his forearms to protect his head while zigzagging backwards while the drone's operator emptied his weapon and switched to a sidearm. When he tried to use the opening Bobby was forced to dodge a rifle round that had come from within the van – another drone.

He had wanted to preserve the van for evidence, so he pulled the diadem from his forehead and thought 'discus' before throwing the magical object into the van where it ricocheted within the combined space, smashing the heads of the robots within but bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball from a vending machine. Bouncing against an armored panel in the front the diadem came back to Bobby, leaving only the drone that had dropped its shotgun in favor of its sidearm still functional. The pistol clicked, empty, and Bobby zipped forward so that he was looking in the things video recorders.

"Game over," he told it, before tapping it on the head with the strength he normally held back. The simple gesture caused the neck servos to hyper-extend, resulting in the head almost coming completely off the shoulders.

It collapsed to the ground and emitted the smell of melting plastics – some kind of acid had been released, destroying the delicate computer system that could have told the authorities who was operating the machines. All the drones were melting their hard drives after being taken down, and he considered the complexity of that while tapping his ear-comm. "Wonder Boy to Local PD."

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" a male voice on the edge of boredom asked.

"This is Wonder Boy, please track my location and send someone to take charge of the situation."

"You're joking, right?" the operator remarked. "You really expect me to believe that Wonder Boy is in our neck of the woods? First off, you sound nothing like him, and second, he wouldn't be calling 9-1-1."

With a sigh the young man tapped the buckle of his utility belt, saying again, "This is Wonder Boy, JLR-177, my locator beacon is active – the situation Is under control. Requesting local law enforcement assets be mobilized to my location and an update of the situation at Samuelson U. Respond."

"Oh, shit," the man at the call center exclaimed. "Um, OSP is inbound and OBI is being informed; please stand by to give your statement and make an appointment to file your official report. The fight at Sam U is over, too – three drones were recovered but their computers are fried."

"I've got another five drones here, same status," he explained. "Standing by to be relieved, Wonder Boy out." He tapped the ear-comm. off and waived over the wonderballs that had followed him, recording the action, and used them to project a screen and keyboard that he used to type up his formal report as the Oregon State Police pulled up.

The OSP set up a perimeter until the bomb disposal technicians could show up, and the big van arrived accompanied by an unmarked car that pulled up to Bobby. A middle-age man in a suit and tie stepped out, flashing his badge and introducing himself as, "Joseph Maxwell, Oregon Bureau of Investigation; let me be the first to welcome you to our state, Wonder Boy."

"The signs on the 101 North beat you to the punch," he joked, shaking the man's hand.

"So, how did you get involved?" Agent Maxwell wondered as he pulled out his pocket recorder.

"Infantry combat drones attacked the meeting I was having with Samuelson University's Board of Admissions," Bobby explained for the record. "Due to the potential danger to people and property I first moved the fight out of the building to the lawn and took down two of the three drones – the third surrendered when its driver realized that he wasn't playing a video game. The other two were either unconvinced or did not care. The driver of the third drone told me that there was a respawn point, like a video game, just before his connection to the drone was severed. The 'respawn point' was a van," he gestured to the van, "with five more drones inside, parked in the middle of construction vans and equipment: to reduce the potential for damaged property I relocated the fight here. Though advanced the armors were limited by the interface the drivers were using – which only allowed them to use their equipped weapons and prevented them from reloading. In order to preserve the van for forensics I used my diadem to critically damage the drones within and took out the last of them. I have a full report ready, along with video taken by the wonderballs – I just need to know where to email it."

"Wow, that was quick, here," Agent Maxwell said as he pulled a business card from his pocket. "That has OBI's email address and my own, if you could CC me a copy."

Bobby held it up to one of the wonderballs, which digitized the image and attached the emails to the 'to' area. He manipulated it a little before sending the report to OBI, OSP, DEO and the Justice League. "Did you detain the driver?" he asked while finishing up.

"We did, thank you," the OBI agent nodded, distracted by the bomb squad sending in a robot to check for explosives for a moment, "Unfortunately he was a local hire, paid to pick up the truck from the dock in Portland and drive it down here, parked it at Samuelson U and then went to a café for lunch, came back just in time for you to give the van a boost." Bitterly he added, "Which means that we have no idea where it came from."

"Mr. Kingsman may know – he's the one who told me they were drones," the young man explained, "And I believe that his niece, Keisha, may be involved somehow – she named the three: Rocker, Snowbound and Damocles. I'm not sure who was who but one sounded Australian, another Norwegian, and the last sounded Canadian, but he could have been from Michigan, too."

"That's just what this region needs: an international incident." Rubbing his temple the man asked, "Any more good news?"

"I think two of the three were teenagers," Bobby added, to the agent's disappointment.

Sighing in defeat the man asked, "Will you be sticking around?"

"My plans were to spend this afternoon sightseeing and then fly back to New York tonight, but if you need me to answer questions just call the Justice League and I'll be there," he offered.

"I was actually hoping to have you around if more of these drones show up," Agent Maxwell clarified.

Bobby was actually cheered by that. "So, you don't think they were targeting me?"

"The facts don't point that direction," was the man's official position since the recorder was still running. "I mean, how many people knew you'd be here?"

"A couple dozen Leaguers, the FAA, the DEO, a couple other government agencies, and the Board of Admissions," the young man shrugged in a display that was meant to express how such scrutiny was typical for him. "More than you would expect for a private citizen.

Shaking his head in disbelief the man insisted, "The facts are still circumstantial, and my instincts are to investigate further. I'll try to wrap this up quickly and get the facts to the admissions board so they can make a determination based on truth rather than perception.

"That would be much appreciated, Agent," Bobby nodded, "But I need to check on my step-dad – my contact information was part of the email I sent you. May I go?"

He checked the inbox on his smartphone and nodded, "You're free to go, Wonder Boy, and thank you for your cooperation. I've heard horror stories about dealing with superheroes, but you've been very professional.

"Robert," a woman's voice called out as a shadow covered the pair. "Bobby, are you alright?"

Wonder Woman was immediately recognizable from the spectacularly revealing costume that she wore. Everyone with a Y-chromosome in view was suddenly standing straighter, shoulder square and guts sucked in as human nature made drove them to present themselves as tall, strong specimens to catch her interest. Bobby himself was not immune from his mentor's beauty, but after training with the woman for over a year and living with her like family for a good portion of that time, he'd learned to overcome the biological response.

"I'm fine, Diana," he said aloud. "This is Agent Joseph Maxwell, OBI; he's the lead investigator."

"At least for now," the man complained, "if Wonder Boy's information pans out then this is probably going to end up a Federal case."

With her eyes narrowing and a hint of accusation in her voice she commented, "You sound disappointed, Agent."

Shrugging, either not hearing or ignoring the tone, the man said, "I've always wanted to work with the Justice League, so if this goes Federal I'll be reassigned."

Bobby suggested, "If Sam U does accept me you could volunteer to be my contact with OBI."

"I'll do that. Thank you for your report, Mr. Trevor; Wonder Woman, a pleasure meeting you," the Agent said, shaking their hands and failing not to look at Diana's breasts when he did.

Bobby followed Diana into the air, but he actually had to lead the way back to the University where a trio of burn marks showed where the first three machines had been destroyed. The faculty and administrators had gathered in the parking lot where they were being treated for cuts and scrapes they had suffered when the drones had come through the window by a pair of ambulances. Nathan was there, too, speaking with Mr. Samuelson and a few other people, but the man kept glancing at the sky ever so often until he spotted the pair of costumed adventurers.

As soon as they had landed Professor Talbert was at it. "That's him, officers; that's who is responsible for this debacle," the man accused. "Not even a student and you've already caused the destruction of three antique windows and the grounds, not to mention the dozens of cuts the teachers suffered when those things came for you!"

There were a couple police officers present, but they didn't even reach for their handcuffs as they stared at Wonder Woman.

"That's quite enough, Professor," Mr. Kingsman said as he keyed off his cellphone, "There's nothing but circumstantial evidence that Mr. Trevor's presence had anything to do with the attack, and far more compelling evidence that I was the target for the assault."

"Is that so?" Diana intoned imperiously.

"I designed the Remote Infantry Combat Drone, and my company built them," Mr. Kingsman explained. "A year ago about 50 of the second generation models were stolen, and a week ago four of them were used to attack our Florida offices to download the operating system for our new interface."

"Why would they be attacking you now, Malcolm?" Mr. Samuelson asked, joining the conversation.

"I've been investigating, or rather, had an independent party investigating the loss of the drones and other signs of industrial espionage," Kingsman answered. "My investigator is rather mercenary, and will not give up his information without payment. I believe that whoever is stealing from me panicked and decided that killing me would keep my investigator from probing any deeper."

"Who is your investigator?" Diana wondered.

"I'd rather keep that information confidential, your majesty," the man deferred.

Nathan pointed out, "I don't hear you complaining, Professor; is it because the man responsible signs your paychecks?"

"Mr. Kingsman has presented evidence of a theory," the Professor condescended. "I am still certain that the boy had a role to play."

"And what role would that be, Rick?" John Nixon, the Professor of Ethics demanded of his colleague, "besides saving the life of the man who signs our paychecks? Mastermind, perhaps? It is up to the authorities to determine motive, the courts to prove guilt, the judge to pass sentience, and the Board of Admissions to decide if the boy will attend our school."

"Of which, you are no longer a part," Lawrence Morris, another of the school's financial backers on the board announced.

"You can't remove me from the board," Talbert argued, "I represent the teachers!"

Miranda Frank, the fifth member of the board and third of the financial backers, retorted, "Actually, you removed yourself, Professor, when you stepped down from the high table to ask your question of the young man. You were the one who put that rule into place, if I remember, Rick. Once the current board has voted on the issue of Mr. Trevor's admission the teachers will vote a new member to represent them."

Professor Talbert's mouth opened and closed with no noise except for a popping of his lips, making him look like a fish as he came to terms with his failure.

"Not to prejudice the board," Professor Nixon smirked, "I support Mr. Trevor's admission – it will be interesting to have his perspective in my class."

Talbert was actually griding his teeth at this point as even teachers who had been critical in their questions earlier murmured that he, Bobby, would have an interesting perspective.

"We won't let your opinion prejudice us," Mr. Samuelson announced, "But thank you none the less. Mr. Trevor, you can expect our decision in the next week. If it is for your admission we will be announcing it publicly, for the purpose of transparency, so you may hear of our decision first.

"Thank you," Bobby said to the gathering. "I look forward to your decision and in the interest of prejudicing the board I hope to attend your school."

***WB 3/16***

Sitting on one side of the glass divide Keisha Kingsman watched as her uncle, Malcolm, took a seat on the opposite side, considering her. Born with Severe Combined Immuno-deficiency and a rare blood type, the young woman had to live in a hermetically sealed suite of rooms; her only contact with the outside world being the occasional visitor and online games. She loved First Person Shooters because of the irreverent banter among the players and the frenetic pace of the games.

"Your friend, Aaron Thomas, came forward and admitted that the plan was to assassinate me," Uncle Malcolm finally said.

"I . . . I never knew his real name," she admitted. "I don't know the names of Damocles or Snowbound either."

He looked disappointed, but admitted, "We think they are foreigners. Keisha, I have to know, did you kill anyone?"

She looked to her mom and the FBI Agents sent to interview her, answering, "I don't think so. We had several games against the same . . . people." Keisha had been about to say 'sprites' but looking back she realized that they must have been human beings. "The operations were to clear buildings and the backgrounds, locations, I mean locations, were rundown residential and industrial areas."

"That sounds like special operations training," one of the agents remarked, writing it down. "Keisha, what language were the signs in?"

"English, mostly," she answered, going on, "Once the signs were in Russian."

The agents wrote that down.

Her mother was in tears and refused to look into Keisha's eyes, and the daughter could only imagine what was going through the woman's mind.

"During the operation in Florida I didn't shoot anyone," the young woman answered her uncle's question more fully. "Rocker, Aaron, blew a wall, but he didn't shoot anyone either."

She wanted to protect her friends, but she could only protect the one – the one she was closest to, ironically.

"Mr. Thomas is cooperating, and he's a minor," the other agent reassured her. "What do you know about Damocles and Snowbound?"

Damocles has an Aussie accent, and he's the oldest, I think," she answered. "I think . . . I think he's prior military. Snowbound had a weird accent, I don't know where he's from but he was the one that scared me. He was focused on the Leader Board, and would tea-bag his kills. It's a kind of pervy celebration where you . . ."

The agent held up his hand, saying, "We're aware of what a tea-bag is, Miss. Kingsman. Wonder Boy and a few of the teachers identified his accent as Norwegian, but I imagine you, uh, don't get out much."

"That probably sounded better in your head," his partner remarked. "Again, we'd like to thank you for coming forward and working with us, Miss. Kingsman. My recommendation will be that you remain here, but if either of the other players or 'Command' contact you please, please, contact us."

"We will, Agents," her uncle promised for her as he stood, shaking their hands. "Thank you for keeping my niece's medical needs in mind."

"We're not all heartless," the government agent responded before Uncle Malcolm showed them out.

"Mommy?" Keisha asked once the door was closed. "I'm so sorry, mom, but I sware, I thought it was just a video game."

Keisha's mom, Janet Kingsman, raised her head to reveal her red eyes and admitted, "I was so afraid, honey, that they would take you some place that couldn't care for you – that I would never get the chance to hold you when we are so close, so close to finding a cure for you, sweetie. If I lost you now . . ."

"I won't play any games," she promised, "School only."

Uncle Malcolm came back in, saying, "I want you to use the new interface instead of playing games. Get out, meet some real people, do something that doesn't involve guns. How is your rib?"

The feedback from the interface had cracked one of her ribs, but the automated medical suite had patched her up. "I'm fine, and I promise, no guns," she even raised her hands up so that they could see she wasn't crossing her fingers or anything.

Her mom smiled, saying, "I'm looking forward to taking you shopping, sweetie."

Shaking his head her uncle chuckled as he admonished, "Just be careful with the heels, sis: Keisha won't have heels to change into here."

Both mother and daughter rolled their eyes and shared a smile. Even with her eyes red from crying her mother's smile made her look beautiful, and seeing that smile made Keisha promise herself that she wasn't going to make her mom cry like that again.

***WB 3/16***

The lab that the wrinkled prune of a scientist had set them up in was more like a warehouse for failed experiments. There was a lot of freaky stuff, but Delilah Volk's favorite was the cybernetic snake. It was a 10 foot long boa constrictor with four cybernetic legs that could transform into wings. Dr. Sivana had used it for multiple experiments, resulting in an exotic creature that seemed to have the run of the place. She liked to bring it stray cats whenever she went out to shop.

While the doctor came up with a method of repowering her boyfriend, Vincent Harper, the pair trained. Delilah's power was to project fields of chronometric energy that could accelerate the speed or age of whatever passed through it. When she'd fought Wonder Boy just a couple months ago she'd created a bar of energy and tried to use it as a sword, even generating a second, trying to get past the pestilential teen's guard. The problem was that the brat had been trained with swords, probably by that bimbo on the Justice League, Wonder Woman.

To that end Sivana had called in one of his associates, Sportsmaster, to train the pair. Limited to normal human strength and speed her lover wasn't doing so well against the older, and obviously more experienced fighter, but he was improving. Practice swords lay next to the practice map, waiting for her training session, along with several other weapons that she could mimic with her power. When they faced the Titans next both of them would be the deadlier for their training.

"Now you're getting it," the man, who wore a hockey mask and armor down his left arm, encouraged, "it's not about strength – I go toe to toe with punks stronger than me all the time, and they all go down the same way."

Blocking the man's blow Vincent punched Sportsmaster right under his outstretched arm. She heard the snap of a rib as the older fighter back-stepped and struck out with his foot, catching her man across the side of the head and sending Vin to the mat.

"Baby, are you okay?" she asked, running over to check on him.

"He'll be fine, little-girl," the man assured, producing a needle and injecting himself under his injured arm. "This is one of Sivana's inventions, the reason I work with that madman – nanites. Microscopic robots that can do anything from set bones to filter toxins. Boy'll have a headache but at least it's better than a fractured skull and cranial bruising."

Vincent groaned as he woke up, and she rubbed his back to sooth him. "Why can't the nanites fix his bone marrow?"

An angry hiss and the flash of wings announced the arrival of Doctor Sivana, who the modified serpent hated with a passion. "The reason is that the nanties are not complex enough to generate genetic material – they simply bridge broken bones and remove proteins from where they should not be. So, while they could repair bones they cannot create new marrow."

"Do you have any good news?" she scoffed.

Holding up a holographic projector the man explained, "My plan is to remove most of his bones, leaving the largest – the femurs, pelvis, and spine – with lab-grown carbon versions, and protect his remaining bones with a carbon polymer wrap. I'll use a nanite system to keep the crystals from being deposited in his remaining bones, and apply bone marrow replacement to flush any crystal seeds from his existing bones. Fortunately Vincent is A-Positive, the easiest blood type to match."

"When do we get started, Doc?" Vin asked, still a little groggy.

"There are some other modifications I would like to make," the mad scientist continued. "Your eyes could be replaced with cybernetics that will give you greater range of vision."

Delilah liked her boyfriend's eyes, and so did he, apparently. "no, I'll keep my eyes and use the HUD on my armor."

Sivana nodded, acquiescing, "Very well Give me a couple weeks and we'll get started."

Sportsmaster looked uncomfortable with the idea of body modifications as he moved over to the weapons, announcing, "Alright, little-girl, let's see what you've learned while the bruiser cleans up."

Nervous, she nodded and selected her practice sword before taking her stance. Sportsmaster was tough on her, and she could only imagine how tough he had been on his own daughters, Jade and Artemis, who he'd trained almost from birth.

***WB 3/16***

The party was supposed to be low key, just a few friends and family, and any paying guests of the B&B. Unfortunately, the week before the birthday celebration all the rooms had been rented out, and on the day all his friends had shown up. It turned the milestone event of Bobby Trevor's 18th birthday into an extravaganza that was not to be missed! Sprawling from the library to the ballroom the part was in full swing when the sun went down and was threatening to carry on throughout the night.

A party in the ballroom was for the guests – nearly 2 dozen men and women that included local and national celebrities, with a local band providing the entertainment. The alcohol was flowing freely for the adults, but Chief Brown had sent a couple deputies to make sure that there was no underage drinking or illegal drugs. Bobby spent time greeting and speaking with the paying guests which included a Hollywood starlet that kept trying to attach herself to his arm.

Occasionally he had to take refuge in the library where the party was rowdier than the other but much more familiar. Donna Troy was there, but none of the older Titans – Victor Stone, Koriand'r, Raven, Dick Grayson, Don and Hank Hall, Roy Harper, Garth of Atlantis, and Jessica Chambers, had not come. Jessica was actually on her honeymoon with Ric Taylor, the new Hourman, and had sent a postcard of their wedding with birthday wishes on the back. That still left a lot of friends to meet and greet.

He'd invited Keane Rose, the west coast Ultiman, because he'd wanted her to meet the other young heroes. The girl had on a very pretty dress and was being escorted by her foster-brother, William Ostmund, who looked like he was having the time of his life hanging out with all the superheroes. Practically bouncing the girl was especially excited because she kept being asked, "Are you going to be part of Wonder Boy's team?"

"Wonder Boy's team?" she asked, confused.

"Yea," Static, Virgil Hawking remarked, "The Titans are getting big enough to break up into training teams. Bobby, Stargirl and Robin will be the team leaders. We just figured that since he invited you that you're going to be part of Bobby's team."

The 13 year-old's head turned to regard him with such an imploring expression that he had to cave. "Yes, I'd like to have you on my team, Keane," he admitted.

She literally bounced, clapping, before giving everyone hugs as she excitedly told her brother the good news.

"Who else do you want on your team?" Courtney asked as she, Tim Drake, Tim's girlfriend Stephanie Brown and Bobby's girlfriend Cassie Sandsmark, joined him.

Cassie was biting her lip and looking nervous – she was working herself up to saying something, but hadn't gotten there yet.

Bobby considered asking her to join his team, but that was way too much firepower on a team and was a risk for fraternization. "I'm going to ask Kendra – she'll keep me honest, and I'd like a normal human to give us all perspective. But, I'm sorry Cassie, I don't want to take the risk of having you in my group, or you, Steph: the instinct to protect you both would just be too high. Steph, I think you should be on Court's team, and Cass, Tim could use a powerhouse on his team.

She actually looked relieved at that, but that wasn't what she was working up to talk to him about. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her outside, away from the party.

"Bobby," she sighed, hugging his arm, "You're 18 now, and everybody knows I'm 16 even if they don't know my name. The media is going to make a big deal out of you dating a minor."

He kissed her on the forehead and admitted, "I thought of that – and you are right, some people are going to make a big deal of it." Cassie tried to take a step back, but Bobby stepped with her. "But, while everyone knows 'The Blonde' is 16 they don't know what age Power Girl is."

Cassie smiled, but shook her head. "I'd love that, Bobby, but, we both know you really hate lying, and if our relationship is going anywhere then we both need to be absolutely certain that we're right for each other. So . . . so until I turn 18 I think it best that we date other people."

He pulled her close and gave her another kiss on the forehead. "I don't deserve a friend as understanding as you are, Cassie, let alone a girlfriend."

"Agreed," she smiled, hugging him before leading the way back into the library, though she immediately headed for the bathroom under the excuse that she needed to 'freshen up', followed by most of the girls.

Bobby wished that he could leave too, but it was time for the cake and presents, so he was stuck. The paying guests were allowed in to get a piece of cake and watch or even present gifts. Eddy took photos of the young man posing with each present and the giver, with the intent of sending thank-you postcards, but some people who had sent presents who couldn't attend, like the government of Greece, who had sent him the keys to a villa outside of Athens that they claimed was the location of Theseus' retreat, making it his ancestral home. For those situations Bobby posed with his parents and baby brother for the postcard.

Snorting, the photographer wondered, "I can't believe that they're still trying to buy you."

"They haven't done my big three, so they can keep wasting money," Bobby responded.

"You could offer the house to the Justice League's international team," his mom recommended.

"I've got a better idea," Bobby joked, handing the key ring to his baby brother, who laughed as he jiggled the keys. "I am joking," he clarified for the guests before they could get offended.

"Greece was claiming that you were to attend tertiary school in their country," Kendra Talak commented, confused.

He shook his head, saying, "They can make all the claims they like, but I mailed my commitment paperwork to Samuelson University this morning. Before the week is out they'll probably be announcing my attendance there to drum up enrollment." Bobby sighed at the craziness in his life, knowing that he'd given up any semblance of normality when he'd put on the new bracer, but looking at the faces of his friends, knowing that some of them wouldn't have been there if he hadn't become Wonder Boy again, he couldn't feel too sorry about the choice.

***WB 3/16***

The town of Bray Road had been renamed 'Old Town' when it was absorbed by the nearby city of Angel Falls. Built during the 1920's it was a collection of row-buildings – a pair of shop fronts separated by an insulated plaster wall. Set across the busy freeway from Samuelson University Old Town had fallen on hard times following the school's closure a decade earlier, and the streets had become the stomping ground of prostitutes. All that kept the gangs out was the Zayder crime family running a protection racket on the men and women who had held out hope that the school would reopen.

Walter Riskow wasn't a criminal – he was a former United States Air Force Pararescueman, who had seen one firefight too many and been discharged for PTSD. He'd given 12 years of his life to the country he loved, and come home to find his town under the thumb of criminals. Sitting in his best friend's deli Riskow had been enjoying a sandwich when a pair of men in crisp suits had come in to demand a payment. Doing what he thought was right Walt had beat the men and tossed them into the street, only to be arrested for assault while the real criminals went free.

Because he was a veteran with both physical and weapons training he'd gotten the book thrown at him, his friend too scared to back Walt. Two years spent in prison, Walter had returned to Old Town to find that things had only gotten worse in his absence.

Johnny-boy Dagnet had taken to carrying a snub-nosed .38 Special when he and his partner, Dog-Breath Thornton, came to get money from Anthony Mario these days just to rub it in Riskow's face that there was nothing he could say or do – the police were pretty much bought and paid for. What was worse was that Johnny-boy always waited until Walt was in the shop to come for the protection money, rubbing in just how powerless Walter was to help his friend. It was galling for the man to think that he'd spent hundreds of hours leading rescue operations in some of the hottest conflict zones on the planet only to come home and be able to do nothing for the men and women who he'd grown up with. Not being able to reconcile that left him sleepless.

Jaw locked, Walt sat in his usual seat, unable to act for fear of being arrested, holding onto the promise of the school reopening the same as everyone else. With the influx of students Dagnet and the scum like him would find it more and more difficult to do business with all those eyes and ears walking about. Maybe that was why the Zayder family was allowing their goons to run amok. It would be a better explanation than that the bastards actually thought this could continue forever.

Movement caught his eye, and the man looked up to see a group of people across the street – two with cameras. The younger of the cameramen handed over his kit before crossing the street and opening the door, the bell over the door jingling. "Hi, Mr. Mario? I'm here about the apartment for rent."

The boy, probably a senior in high school, noticed the gun, which Johnny-boy quickly slipped into his pocket and looked excited as he misconstrued, "A .38 Special? My dad had one of those as his backup, are you buying it for home defense, Mr. Mario?"

"Yea, but we couldn't agree on a price," Johnny-boy answered for the shop owner, eying the boy speculatively, not quite buying the fresh-face.

"If you do buy it you'll have to have it registered, and it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get a permit to carry a concealed weapon," the boy said. "That reminds me, can I see your CCW card?"

"My what?" Johnny-boy asked, turning to face the boy, thinking that intimidation might work.

In his years of service Walt had seen people intimidated by the threat of violence, but the boy seemed to be amused by it instead. "Your Carry Concealed Weapon permit," the boy explained, a wicked gleam in his eye, "It's illegal for you to carry a pistol in your pocket like that – it has to be in a carrying case unless you have a permit."

"Come on, Johnny," Dog-Breath said to his partner, a restraining hand on the other man's shoulder. "We can come back when Tony isn't busy."

Pulling his shoulder out from under his partner's restraint, the gangster threatened, "I'll be back, Tony."

The teen seemed uninterested by the men as he stepped up to the counter and considered options, but once the car was out of sight he tapped some kind of blue-tooth device in his ear. "Wonder Boy to local PD, this is Robert Trevor, JLR-177; I'm at Mario's Delicatessen in Bray Road where I spotted a man brandishing a snub-nosed .38 Special. When asked for his CCW he failed to show it – could be that he'd forgotten it, could be that he doesn't have one. He left in a gray Chrysler La Baron two-door, Oregon license plate number 135-GLB on the front, California license plate number R32BDR4 on back. I have photographic evidence that I'll email to the department, but you may want to send a patrol car to get the statements of other witnesses."

"There's no precinct in Old Town," Walter told the kid, "That's one of the reasons that Johnny-Boy and Dog-Breath can come in here so cock-sure to shakedown the owners."

"One more reason for you to get to know your neighbors and have firearms, for your own protection and theirs," the teen replied sagely after tapping the ear-comm. again. He took a look at the selection and ordered, "I'd like a roast beef on wry with everything, extra banana peppers, but could you put the sour croute on the side?"

As he ordered the young man was joined by his companions – a paunchy photographer who handed over the teen's camera, another man in a suit combo not much different from the gangsters, and a dark-skinned girl about the same age as the boy. "Any problem, Robert?" the man in the suit asked.

"No, I already called it in, Agent Ramirez," Robert answered. "I just ordered a sandwich while waiting on the patrolman."

"So did I," Ramirez replied as he stepped up to the counter.

Taking a seat the boy reviewed the pictures and wirelessly uploaded them to a PDA that he then used to type up a report while the two men ordered – the girl, however, just sat with Robert, asking "So, what just happened?"

"Protection racket," the boy responded.

"You just let them go?" the girl demanded. "You could have put them in orbit!"

"And been arrested for excessive force?" he pointed out. "Just because you have the power to do something doesn't mean that you have the right, Keisha."

She looked ashamed, as Gina, Tony's wife, arrived with the boy's sandwich. "Would you like anything, miss?"

"No, thank you," the girl said, blushing, "I ate earlier, special diet."

Gina seemed shocked by the girl's appearance, and looking closer Walt realized that there was something . . . artificial about her. It was the stiffness of her skin and something about her eyes, but she seemed more embarrassed than threatening. The men ordered but sat separately, seeming to be observing the kids as they waited. Robert, meanwhile, started in on his sandwich, garnishing it with the croute with apparent relish and washing it down with water.

He continued to type as he chewed until the squad car showed up carrying one of the two pairs of patrolmen who were assigned to Old Town. Walt wasn't sure if Tom Mayfield or Hannah Giovanni were corrupt, but he figured it was either that or complacency by the number of times he'd seen them drive by when Johnny-Boy and Thornton were shaking down store owners. They immediately recognized Walter as they entered but went over to the kid to ask their questions of him first.

Wonder Boy stated the facts in a clinical manor, laying out the chronology of the event without even implying criminal activity until he got to the part about the concealed carry permit. "As I understand it anyone with a Carry Concealed Weapon Permit is required by law to produce said license when asked," the kid said, making a nice little legal noose for Johnny-Boy Dagnet to hang himself in.

Tom cleared his threat and admitted, "You're right, that's the law in Oregon, but you have to have cause to ask for it."

"He'd slipped the gun into his pocket – that's considered concealed per law," the kid pointed out, and the officers conceded the point. "The one with the gun didn't seem to know what I was talking about and his friend recommended that they leave."

"At any time did you touch either man?" Tom asked.

"No, I did not," the young man told them. "Were they stopped for questioning?"

Tom nodded, clenching his jaw as he did, and Hannah flashed a glance at 'Agent' Ramirez before saying, "John Dagnet and his friend, Dog-Breath Thornton, and yes, that is the name his father gave him, were pulled over and questioned about the handgun. Dagnet has a federal record, and part of his parole is that he's not allowed to handle a firearm. I understand that you have pictures?"

"Yes, I've attached them to my report," the young man said, "and sent them to Agent Ramirez to file with his report."

"Just professional curiosity," Hannah inquired, "But who do you send your reports to?"

"Local and State Law Enforcement, The Department of Extra-normal Operations, and the Justice League," he answered, going on to add, "The DEO is heading up a multi-agency taskforce, so they will forward the report to all requisite Federal Agencies. So, basically: everybody."

Officer Giovanni actually smiled at that as she wrote it down – with that many people involved the chance of covering it up or skating over the issue was less and less likely all the time. The female officer said, "The on-scene officer confiscated the weapon and booked Dagnet for parole violation – your photos will make that stick, so if nothing else he'll be off the streets for a couple of weeks. Ballistics has the gun now, so we'll see what else comes up. Thank you for your time, Mr. Trevor."

"Thank you, officers," he countered, standing to shake their hands.

They questioned the girl, Keisha Kingsman, next and she struggled to keep her account as clinical as the boy's – she confirmed a fact that after Johnny-Boy put the gun in his pocket the man's hand had not come out. "I swear, he was pointing the gun at Bobby."

"I do have a final question," Hannah stated before asking, "I thought you had some auto-immune disease?"

"Severe Combined Immuno-Deficiency, I'm actually at home using my uncle's interface to control a robot that's designed to look like me," she explained, pulling back the sleve of her dress to show where the artificial skin gave way to a truly black frame. "It's not a combat drone, like the ones that were stolen. Actually, it's designed to break if stressed to even human limits."

That was a little creepy.

After they had completed interviewing the pseudo-girl the officers moved over to Walt with Mayfield saying, "Let me guess, Dagnet and Thornton came in, waved their guns around and demanded money."

"Nope," Walt answered, following the boy's lead and giving an exact timeline of the events up to the point that the gangster drove away. "I will confirm that Johnny-boy's hand never left his pocket after concealing the gun."

When the officers went to question the others Walter moved over to the table where the boy was finishing his sandwich. "I don't get it: I'm almost twice your age, been trained by the best in the Air Force, and served in some of the hottest terrain on the planet, and I've been telling the cops for years that those two were shaking down the store owners."

The boy understood, continuing, "And in I step one day, saying the exact same thing, near enough, and one of them is in jail. I'm guessing from the way the officers reacted when seeing you that you were arrested for trying to stop those two before now."

Jaw clenched, he nodded, "As a veteran who was separated for PTSD I got the book thrown at me. Now if I so much as touch the goons they'll accuse me of assault – that gun, Johnny-boy had it out because I was here, not because he needed to intimidate Tony."

"Bullies tend to do that," the boy smirked, "they revel in their perceived power – at least until they come across someone that they can't intimidate."

"The cops, though; they take you seriously and you're just a punk kid still a couple weeks from graduating," Walt accused.

After considering him for a moment the boy answered, "Sir, I do respect you for your service – my dad was Army Air Corp during World War II and I wanted to attend the Air Force Academy, but going into this half-cocked isn't the way to do things. You've been trained to respond to a potential threat with force, but doing things that way makes you no better than the people you're fighting against. And you can't just throw on a costume, bark out some inane moniker, and go out busting heads either; not in today's paranoid society – you're just as likely to be sued by the criminals that way.

"My suggestion, step in only to stop violent crimes. Instead, gather evidence – video and/or audio – of the less than violent crimes. You'll be surprised how effective just standing across the street with a video camera is. The great part about it, it isn't illegal – things done in public view are not protected by privacy rights so long as what you do is also in the public view," the boy explained. "Also, I would recommend that you work with the police – ask them to train you in reporting, and qualify for telescoping batons, pepper-spray and tazer. That will prove to the police that you are capable of operating with less-than-lethal force."

It was an interesting take, something that Walter had never considered.

Seeing that Gina was done being interviewed Robert stood and shook Walt's hand before stepping over to the woman, "Mrs. Mario, could you show me that apartment now?"

***WB 3/16***

Gotham City was crowded with psychopaths and career criminals, which was probably why there were so many costumed vigilantes in town. Batman & Robin, Bat-Girl, Black Canary, Nightwing and his new sidekick, Flamebird, Huntress and The Question, and all the yahoos who thought that all you had to do was put on a flashy costume and you could fight crime. It wasn't nearly that easy, as Artemis Crock knew first hand, as she was just days out of Juvie for her first stint in costume. Technically, she was breaking probation by suiting up – she'd end up in Foster Care if she was caught, and probably break her mother's heart in the process.

It was Artemis' own fault, having chosen the current Huntress to be her mentor because her mom had been the original Huntress.

Unfortunately the current Huntress was considered an extremist by Batman, and taking a trainee was considered crossing a line in the sand by the Dark Knight. Artemis had gone to juvie until she'd turned 18 and Huntress had gotten a slap on the wrist by comparison. Of course, Huntress was a legal adult with a secret identity to hide behind, while Artemis had been trusting in how unusual her name was in order to keep her secret. Still, Gotham needed a couple more yahoos to keep the criminal element in check.

So, new costume, with a moniker to go with it, Tigress, and she was ready to bust some heads in the name of Truth and Justice. It was a tan and black body suit, a black utility belt around her waist that helped support a collapsing crossbow on her right hip and a quiver of trick bolts on her left. A telescoping quarterstaff rounded out her offensive weaponry, but she'd also filled the pockets of her belt with the smoke pellets and other gear that Huntress had provided before their partnership had broken up.

Tonight Tigress was investigating Zayder Shipping, a west-coast based company with shipping routes that took them past the island of Santa Prisca – the small south Atlantic island that was the source of Venom. A neo-steroid, Venom was used by the criminal enforcer Bane and a few of his closest lieutenants. Some of the older ships would stop at the island, supposedly to take on water, but she suspected that they were taking on more than that. Every time one of the ships that stopped at Santa Prisca came into Gotham Harbor it was met by a truck from Quetzalcoatl Freight, which would offload cargo from specially marked shipping containers.

Quetzalcoatl Freight was a shell company operated by Bane to move drugs and weapons out of the city, and Artemis, Tigress, was certain that Bane was receiving new venom from the shipments, but to prove it, and thereby prove her worth to the heroic community of the greater Gotham area, she was going to have to bust some heads!

She moved quietly across the steel garters inside the warehouse, watching as four men loaded up a moving van with crates from the marked shipping containers. Finding the spot she wanted, Tigress pulled a special bolt from her quiver with an adhesive head and containing an artificial cable that connected to her crossbow, like the dynamic duo's grappling guns. She fired and swung down, slamming her heels against the chest of one goon and sending him tumbling backwards to the ground. Cutting the cable she spun, catching another thug across the head and bouncing him against the side of the van.

"Who the hell is she?" one of them demanded.

"Who cares," the guy she'd knocked down ordered, "Blast her!"

Three guns were leveled at her, and Artemis dropped, rolling under the van and scrambling out the other side as the bullets went flying. She came up to see a teenager standing on a shipping container – with the light at his back she couldn't see much as the other, a boy she figured, launched himself on top of the van, sliding down the other side into the mix of the goons who had stopped shooting. Drawing her quarterstaff she went around the side of the vehicle to find the boy mixing it up with Bane's thugs, and seemed to be doing alright.

Artemis, and her sister, Jade, had been trained in martial arts from the day they could walk by their dad, "Crusher" Crock, so she could tell that the new guy was well trained. He also seemed to have some equipment, which included some type of armor under the left sleeve of what looked to be a hooded sweater. He actually managed to use the armor to block a bullet, something that even her dad never tried, bouncing the bullet into another thug's shoulder.

With a grunt that was more frustration than pain the other boy pulled something from under his sleeve and threw it. Tigress ducked, but the strange discus didn't come anywhere near her as it bounced off the heads of the goons, knocking them out.

"You should lead with that, next time," she commented, trying to be off hand, but her throat tightened when she realized that the discus transformed into a bracelet of silver wire centered on a star-shaped blue crystal. Artemis realized that the hoodie eh was wearing was blue, with a faded white star on the front and his boots were red – it was the outfit he'd first worn as Wonder Boy.

He started pulling first aid supplies out of his utility belt, saying, "Call 9-1-1, this guy is going to need medical attention."

"I don't have a phone," Artemis panicked, realizing who she was dealing with was actually Wonder Boy.

"What about medical training?" he demanded while bandaging the wounded thug's shoulder.

"Yea, I can do that," she said, taking the boy's place while he tapped on his ear, saying, "Wonder Boy to local PD, shots fired." He gave them the address and a rundown of the situation, but didn't bring Tigress up. Tapping his ear again, he told her, "So, what do you go by these days?"

"Tigress," she answered.

"Well, Tigress, I came here tonight to look into Zayder Shipping – their corporate HQ is in a city near where I'm moving to, and I heard some suspicious rumors they were connected to organized crime," he explained. "Having met you, though, I have to ask if you've ever considered joining the Titans."

"The Teen Titans?" she wondered, startled. "I, ah, never considered that, no."

He joined her, helping to stabilize the mook as he continued, "I've been put in charge of a training squad, and could really use a normal human on the team to give me perspective."

"Me," she tried to come to terms with the invitation.

He took over tending the wounded, saying, "Why don't you break open a few of those crates so we can see what we're dealing with."

Getting up she smashed one of the crates with her staff, but what fell out was a bunch of over-ripe fruit. Digging through it she found that there was nothing but fruit inside, and in the next crate she opened there was fruit again. All the boxes were filled with nothing but fruit – not venom. She took her frustration out by kicking and punching the boxes to smitherines.

"Tigress, stop," Wonder Boy counseled, "Leave something for Gotham PD to use as evidence – I'm pretty sure that those fruits haven't been declared, which means we've got these guys on smuggling even if we can't get them on drug trafficking or gun running. I'll upload the video footage from the wonderballs to the GCPD's evidence server."

"I don't get it," she growled, "This has to be how Bane is getting his drugs into the country – there's no other traffic from Santa Prisca!"

Her impromptu partner was quiet for a moment as he stood from tending the gunshot victim and went to zip-tie the other thugs, who were beginning to regain consciousness. She was expecting him to come up with some amazing insight only to say, "I'm out of good ideas, so, what about stupid ideas? Got any of those?"

Clenching her jaw she admitted, "Just that I forgot to take 'Periscope Down' back to the rental place: now I owe late fees."

"'Periscope Down', that's my step-dad's favorite movie," the boy considered.

"Mine, too," she said, "My favorite part is when they . . . they sneak into the harbor by hiding under a cargo ship! What if Bane's thugs use the cargo ships to sneak a submarine under the sonar?"

He nodded, waiving over a half dozen wonderballs that projected four screens and two keyboards that he used to call up information. "If they are using a submarine then the cargo ship would displace more water than it should," Wonder Boy considered, bringing up data that Artemis couldn't begin to decipher.

An ambulance pulled up outside, and paramedics came in, going to the injured goon first. "You're right, Tigress, according to the sensors in the harbor the ship was displacing too much water," he explained, one of the screens turning to a map of the harbor that tracked the water displacement from the cargo ship to the point that the trail split into two – one docking outside the warehouse and the other disappearing into another warehouse. "It's probably some kind of submarine pen that Bane is using to offload his drugs and guns."

"Well then," Tigress cheered as the police arrived to take the rest of the goons into custody, "Let's get going!"

Wonder Boy  
Part III – Hero  
Chapter 16: Plans


End file.
